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ORIGINS 

O F 

CHRISTIANITY 


THE  WOKKS 


OF 

ERNEST  RENAN. 

Uniform  with  this  volume,  price  $1.75. 


1.  THE  LIFE  OP  JESUS. 

2.  THE  APOSTLES. 

3.  SAINT  PAUL. 


The  works  of  Ernest  Renan  are  of  great  power 
and  learning,  earnestly  and  honestly  written, 
beautiful  in  style,  admirable  in  treatinent, 
and  filled  with  reverence,  tender- 
ness, and  warmth  of  heart. 


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BY 

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THE 


IFE  OF  JESU 


BY 

ERNEST  RENAN 

MEHBRE  DE  L'IKSTITUT. 


•rSAKSLATED  FROM  THE  ORIGINAL  FRENCH  BY 

CHARLES  EDWIN  WILBOUR 

TSAN8LATO&  07  LE8  MISBBABLM. 


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WILSON 


1 y H 


TO  THE  PURE  SPIRIT 
0 P MY  SISTER  HENRIETTB 

WHO  DIED  AT  BTBLUS,  SEPTEMBER  24tH,  1861. 


Do  you  remember,  from  your  rest  in  the 
bosom  of  God,  those  long  days  at  Ghazir,  where, 
alone  with  you,  I wrote  these  pages,  inspired  by 
the  scenes  we  had  just  traversed  ? Silent  by  my 
side,  you  read  every  leaf,  and  copied  it  as  soon 
as  written,  while  the  sea,  the  villages,  the 
ravines,  the  mountains,  were  spread  out  at 
our  feet.  When  the  overwhelming  light  of  the 
sun  had  given  place  to  the  innumerable  army 
of  the  stars,  your  fine  and  delicate  questions, 
your  discreet  doubts,  bi’ought  me  back  to  the 
sublime  object  of  our  common  thoughts.  One 


VI 


DEDICATION. 


day  you  told  me  that  you  should  love  this  book, 
first,  because  it  had  been  written  with  you,  and 
also  because  it  pleased  you.  If  sometimes  you 
l.-arcd  for  it  the  narrow  judgments  of  the  frivo- 
ous  man  you  were  always  persuaded  that  spirits 
truly  religious  would  be  pleased  with  it.  In  the 
midst  of  these  sweet  meditations  Death  struck  us 
both  with  his  wing  ; the  sleep  of  fever  seized  us 
both  at  the  same  hour  ; I awoke  alone  ! ...  You 
sleep  now  in  the  land  of  Adonis,  near  the  holy 
Byblus  and  the  sacred  waters  where  the  women 
of  the  ancient  mysteries  came  to  mingle  their 
tears.  Reveal  to  me,  0 my  good  genius,  to  me 
whom  you  loved,  those  truths  which  master 
Death,  prevent  us  from  fearing,  and  make  us 
almost  love  it. 


CONTENTS 


tA91 

Dsdication  * 

g 

JJTRODUCTION  

CHAPTER  I. 

Place  of  Jesus  in  the  world’s  history  W 

CHAPTER  II. 

Childhood  and  youth  of  Jesus  —his  first  impressions  6® 

CHAPTER  III. 

Education  of  Jesus  

' CHAPTER  lY. 


Order  of  ideas  amid  which  Jesus  was  developed  89 

CHAPTER  Y. 

First  aphorisms  of  Jesus.— His  ideas  of  a father  God  and  a 

pure  religion. — First  disciples  101 

CHAPTER  YI. 

John  the  Baptist. — ^Journey  of  Jesus  to  John  and  his  sojourn 

in  the  desert  of  Judea. — Adopts  the  baptism  of  John ....  Ill 


CHAPTER  YII. 

Development  of  the  ideas  of  Jesus  concerning  the  kingdom  of 

God  130 


CHAPTER  YIII. 

Jesus  at  Capernaum  143 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Tlie  disciples  of  Jesus 166 

CHAPTER  X. 

The  sermons  by  the  sea  166 

CHAPTER  XI. 


The  kingdom  of  God  conceived  as  the  advent  of  the  poor  .... 


176 


viii 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Embassy  of  John  from  prison  to  Jesus.— Death  of  J ohn.— Rela« 

tions  of  his  school  with  that  of  Jesus  18S 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Eirst  attempts  upon  Jerusalem  19 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

ILilAUons  of  Jesus  with  the  Pagans  and  the  Samaritans 208 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Commencement  of  the  legend  of  Jesus — his  own  idea  of  his 

supernatural  mission 216 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Miracles  229 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Definite  form  of  the  ideas  of  Jesus  on  the  kingdom  of  God. .. . 240 

CHAPTER  XYIII. 

The  institutions  of  Jesus  264 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

Increasing  progression  of  enthusiasm  and  exaltation 266 

CHAPTER  XX. 

Opposition  to  Jesus  276 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

Last  journey  of  Jesus  to  Jerusalem  287 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

Machinations  of  the  enemies  of  Jesus 801 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

The  last  week  of  Jesus ......  819 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Arrest  and  trial  of  Jesus  827 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

The  death  of  Jesus  34 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Jesus  at  the  tomb 369 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Fate  of  the  enemies  of  Jesus  868 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Essential  character  of  the  work  of  Jesus . . .......  868 


INTRODCJCTION. 


WHICH  TREATS  PRINOIPALLT  OF  THE  8 0 IT  B 0 I I 
OF  THIS  HISTORY. 

A HISTORY  of  the  “ Origins  of  Christianity  ’’  would 
embrace  the  obscure  and,  if  I may  use  the  word,  sub- 
terranean period  which  extends  from  the  first  begin- 
nings of  this  religion  to  the  time  when  its  existence 
becomes  a public,  welhknown  fact,  evident  to  the  eyes 
of  all  men.  Such  a history  would  consist  of  four 
books.  The  first,  which  I now  present  to  the  pub- 
lic, treats  of  the  event  itself  which  served  as  the  start- 
ing-point of  the  new  worship  ; it  is  entirely  filled  by 
the  sublime  person  of  the  founder.  The  second  would 
treat  of  the  apostles  and  their  immediate  disciples,  or 
rather  of  the  revolutions  in  religious  thoug-ht  of  the 
first  two  Christian  generations.  I would  close  it  about 
the  year  100,  when  the  last  friends  of  Jesus  have  died, 
and  all  the  books  of  the  New  Testament  have  become 
fixed  very  nearly  in  the  form  in  which  we  read  them. 
The  third  Vv^ould  set  forth  the  condition  of  Christianity 
under  the  Antonines,  slowly  developing,  and  main- 
taining an  almost  permanent  war  against  the  empire, 
which  having  now  reached  the  highest  degree  of  ad- 
ministrative perfection  and  being  governed  by  philo- 
sophers, combats  in  the  infant  sect  a society  secret  and 

1* 


10 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


theocratic,  that  denies  it  obstinately  and  underminei 
it  incessantly.  This  book  would  comprise  the  whole 
of  the  second  century.  Finally,  the  fourth  book  would 
show  the  decisive  progress  of  Christianity  from  the 
time  of  the  Syrian  emperors.  In  it  the  wise  construc- 
tion of  the  Antonines  would  be  seen  falling  in  pieces 
he  decay  of  the  ancient  civilization  becoming  irrevo- 
cable, Christianity  profiting  by  its  ruin,  Syria  conquer- 
ing the  whole  West,  and  Jesus,  in  company  with  the 
gods  and  divinized  sages  of  Asia,  taking  possession  of  a 
society  to  which  philosophy  and  a purely  civil  govern 
ment  no  longer  suffice.  Then  it  is  that  the  religious 
ideas  of  the  races  grouped  about  the  Mediterranean  are 
radically  modified,  oriental  religions  everywhere  as- 
sume the  ascendancy,  Christianity,  having  become  a 
mighty  church,  entirely  forgets  its  millennial  dreams, 
breaks  its  last  connection  with  Judaism,  and  passes  en- 
tirely into  the  Greek  and  Latin  world.  The  literary 
struggles  and  labors  of  the  third  century,  already  pub- 
lic matters,  would  be  set  forth  only  in  general  terms. 
[ should  relate  still  more  briefly  the  persecutions  of 
the  commencement  of  the  fourth  century,  the  last  ef- 
fort of  the  empire  to  return  to  its  old  principles, 
which  denied  religious  association  any  place  in  the 
State.  In  conclusion,  I should  merely  foreshadow  the 
change  of  policy  which,  under  Constantine,  inverted 
conditions,  and  made  of  the  freest  and  most  sponta 
ueous  religious  movement,  an  official  religion,  sub- 
jected to  the  State  and  persecuting  in  its  turn. 

1 know  not  that  I shall  have  enough  of  life  and  ability 
to  complete  a plan  so  vast.  1 shall  be  satisfied  if,  after 
having  written  the  life  o^  Jesus,  it  is  given  to  me  to 
relate  as  I understand  it,  the  history  of  the  apostles. 


INTRODUCTION. 


n 


the  condition  of  the  Christian  conscioiisneis  during 
the  weeks  which  followed  the  death  of  Jesus,  the  form- 
ation of  the  legendary  cycle  of  the  resurrection,  th^ 
first  acts  of  the  church  of  Jerusalem,  the  life  of  St. 
Paul,  the  ci’isis  of  the  time  of  Nero,  the  vision  of  th 
Apocalypse,  the  fall  of  Jerusalem,  the  foundation  of 
t!ie  Hebraic  christianisins  of  Batanea,  the  compilation 
of  the  gospels,  the  origin  of  the  great  schools  of  Asia 
Minor,  sprung  from  John.  Every  thing  pales  beside 
this  marvellous  first  century.  By  a singularity  rare  in 
history,  we  see  much  more  clearly  what  passed  in  the 
Christian  world  from  the  year  50  to  the  year  75,  than 
from  the  year  100  to  the  year  150. 

The  plan  followed  in  this  history  has  prevented  the 
introduction  into  the  text  of  long  critical  dissertations 
on  controverted  points.  A continuous  system  of  notes 
gives  the  reader  the  means  of  verifying  by  their  sour- 
ces all  the  propositions  of  the  text.  In  these  notes,  I 
have  strictly  confined  myself  to  citations  from  first 
hand,  I mean  to  the  indication  of  the  original  passages 
upon  which  each  assertion  or  each  conjecture  rests.  I 
know  that  to  persons  little  acquainted  with  these  stu- 
dies, many  other  developments  would  have  been  ne- 
cessary. But  I am  unaccustomed  to  doing  over  again 
what  has  been  done  and  well  done.  To  cite  only  books 
written  in  French,  those  who  will  procure  the  follow- 
ng  works : 

FAudes  critiques  sur  VEvangile  de  saint  Matthieui  par  M.  AllK)rt 
R6?ille,  pasteur  de  I’eglise  wallDnne  de  Rotterdam.* 

Histoire  de  la  thiologie  chrHienne  au  sUcle  apostolique,  yar  M.  Rousa> 

• Leyden,  Noothoven  van  Groor,  1862.  Paris,  Cherbuliez.  A book  crowned 
ill  *ihe  Society  of  the  Hague  for  the  defense  of  the  Christian  religion 


12 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


proftfiseur  h la  Faculte  de  theologie  et  au  seminaire  protestant  di 
Strasbourg.* 

Des  Doctrines  Religieuses  des  Juifs pendant  les  deux  si^cles  ant&bxfi 
' Vere  ChrHiennc,  par  M.  Michel  Nicolas,  professeur  a la  Faculte 
theologie  protestante  de  Montauban.f 

Vie  de  J(!sust  par  le  Dr.  Strauss,  traduite  par  M.  Littre,  membre  d^» 
‘iiistitut.t 

Revue  de  thdologie  et  de  philosophie  chrdtienne,  publiee  sous  la  dir«o« 
tion  de  M.  Colani,  de  1860  a 1867. — Nouvelle  Revue  de  theologie,  faisant 
suite  a la  precedente,  depuis  1868.§ 


— those,  I say,  who  will  consult  these  excellent  works,  J 
will  find  in  them  the  explanation  of  a multitude  of 
points  upon  which  I have  been  compelled  to  be  very 
succinct.  The  criticism  in  detail  of  the  texts  of  the 
gospels,  in  particular,  has  been  done  by  M.  Strauss 
in  a manner  which  leaves  little  to  be  desired.  Al- 
though M.  Strauss  is  mistaken  in  his  theory  of  the 
compilation  of  the  gospels,T[  and  his  book  has,  as  1 
think,  the  fault  of  looking  too  much  from  the  theolog- 
ical and  too  little  from  the  historical  point  of  view,** 
it  is  indispensable,  in  order  to  understand  the  motives 
which  have  guided  me  in  a great  number  of  details, 


• Strasbourg,  Treuttel  et  Wurtz.  2e  edition,  1860  Paris,  CherbuHea. 

+ Paris,  Micfiel  Levy  freres,  1860. 
i Paris,  Ladrange,  2e  edition,  1856. 

5 Strasbourg,  Treuttel  et  Wurtz.  Paris,  Cherbuliez. 

j While  these  pages  are  being  printed,  a book  has  appeared  which  I do  no| 
hesitate  to  add  to  the  preceding,  although  I have  not  been  able  to  read  At  with 
the  attention  which  it  deserves  : Zes  Emngiles,  par  M.  Gustave  d’Eichthal.  Pre- 
miere partie  : Exavten  critique  et  comparatif  dh  trois  premiers  evangiles.  Pariz, 
Hachette,a863.  ^ ^ ^ . 

f The  great  results  obtained  on  this  point  were  not  reached  until  after  lha 
first  edition  of  M.  Strauss’s  work-  The  learned  critic,  has,  however,  done  jus- 
tice to  them  in  his  succeeding  editions  with  much  frankness. 

**  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  there  is  not  a word  in  M.  Strauss's  book  lo 
Justify  the  strange  and  absurd  calumny  by  which  an  attempt  has  been  made 
to  discredit  among  superficial  people,  a proper,  exact,  acute  and  conscientioui 
book,  though  spoiled  in  its  general  portions  by  an  exclusive  system.  27ot  only 
has  M.  Strauss  never  denied  the  existence  of  Jesus,  but  every  page  of  n is  bools 
implies  this  existence.  The  truth  is  that  M.  Strauss  supposes  that  the  h »^vidua3 
character  of  Jesus  is  more  obscured  to  us  than  perhaps  it  really  )s. 


INTRODUCTION. 


13 


fo  follow  the  discussions,  always  judicious  though 
sometimes  rather  subtle,  of  the  book  so  well  transla 
ted  by  my  learned  brother,  M.  Littre. 

1 believe  that  I have  neglected,  among  ancient  an* 
(Iiorities,  no  source  of  information.  Five  great  collec- 
tions of  writings,  not  to  speak  of  a multitude  of  other 
scattered  data,  remaiu'to  us  in  regard  to  Jesus  and  the 
time  in  which  he  lived  : first,  the  gospels  and  the 
writings  of  the  New  Testament  generally ; second, 
the  compositions  called  the  “ Apocrypha  of  the  Old 
Testament third,  the  works  of  Philo ; fourth,  those 
of  Josephus ; fifth,  the  Talmud.  The  writings  of 
Philo  have  the  inestimable  advantage  of  showing  us 
what  thoughts  were  fermenting  in  the  time  of  Jesus 
in  souls  occupied  with  great  religious  questions. 
Philo  lived,  it  is  true,  in  quite  another  province  of 
Judaism,  but  like  Jesus  he  was  very  free  from  the 
littlenesses  which  reigned  at  Jerusalem  ; Philo  is  truly 
the  elder  brother  of  Jesus.  He  was  sixty-two  years 
old  when  the  prophet  of  Nazareth  was  at  the  highest 
degree  of  his  activity,  and  he  survived  him  atisastten 
years.  What  a misfortune  that  the  chances  of  life 
did  not  lead  him  into  Galilee  1 What  would  he  not 
have  taught  us ! 

Josephus,  writing  principally  for  the  pagans,  hag 
net  the  same  sincerity  in  his  style.  His  brief  noti- 
ces of  Jesus,  John  the  Baptist,  and  Judas  the  Gaulon- 
’ te,  are  dry  and  colorless.  We  feel  that  he  is  seok- 
ng  to  present  these  movements  so  thoroughly  Jew- 
ish in  character  and  spirit,  under  a form  which  may 
be  intelligible  to  the  Greeks  and  Romans.  I think 
the  passage  on  Jesus  authentic.*  It  is  perfectly  in  th« 


• Ant. , XVIII,  1.1, 3. 


14 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


style  of  Josephus,  and  if  this  historian  had  made  meih 
tion  of  Jesus,  it  would  have  been  in  that  way.  Wg 
perceive  only  that  some  Christian  hand  has  retouched 
the  fragment,  has  added  a few  words  without  which 
it  would  have  been  almost  blasphemous,*  and  has  per- 
haps curtailed  or  modified  some  expressions.f  We 
must  remember  that  the  literary  fortune  of  Josephus 
was  made  by  the  Christians,  wiio  adopted  his  writings 
as  documents  essential  to  their  sacred  history.  There 
was  put  out,  probably  in  the  second  century,  an  edi- 
tion corrected  according  to  the  Christian  ideas.:}:  But 

at  all  events,  what  constitutes  the  great  interest  of 
Josephus  for  the  subject  before  us,  is  the  vivid  light 
which  he  throws  upon  the  period.  Thanks  to  him, 
Herod,  Herodias,  Antipater,  Philip,  Annas,  Caiaphas, 
and  Pilate  are  persons  upon  whom  we  put  our  finger, 
and  whom  we  see  living  before  us  with  striking  real- 
ity. 

The  Apocrypha  of  the  Old  Testament,  especially  the 
Jewish  portion  of  the  Sybilline  verses,  and  the  Book 
of  Enoch,  taken  with  the  Book  of  Daniel,  which  also 
is  really  apocryphal,  are  of  cardinal  importance  for  the 
history  of  the  development  of  the  Messianic  theories, 
and  for  the  understanding  of  the  conceptions  of  Jesus 
in  regard  to  the  kingdom  of  God.  The  Book  of  Enoch, 
In  particular,  which  was  very  much  read  in  the  region 
Jesus, II  gives  tl>e  key  to  the  expression  ‘‘Son  of 


« ^ If  it  >e  lawful  to  call  him  a man.’* 

■}  Instead  of  oZ^og  it  was  certainl7  ohrog  sXiySTfk 

Cf.  XX,  IX, i. 

j Kusebius  (Hist,  eccl.,  I,  li,  and  Demonst.  evang..,  Ill,  6,)  quotes  the  passage  on 
Jesus  as  we  now  read  it  in  Josephus.  Origen  (Contra  Cels.,  1 , 47;  II,  13,;  and 
Eusetius  (Hist!,  eccl.,  II,  23,)  quote  another  Christian  interpolation,  which  u 
f jund  in  none  of  the  manuscripts  of  Josephus  that  ha^^e  reached  us. 

I Judas  Epist,  14. 


INTRODUCTION. 


16 


man,”  and  the  ideas  which  were  associated  with  it. 
The  age  of  tliese  different  books,  tlianks  to  the  labors 
of  Messrs.  AlexanBre,  Ewald,  Dillmann,  and  Eenss, 
is  now  fixed  beyond  doubt.  All  now  agree  in  placing 
the  compilation  of  the  more  important  of  them  in  tho 
second  and  first  centuries  before  Christ.  The  date  ot 
the  Book  of  Daniel  is  still  more  certain.  The  character 
of  the  two  languages  in  which  it  is  written  ; the  use  oi 
Greek  words;  the  clear  announcement,  determinate 
and  dated,  of  events  as  late  as  the  time  of  Antiochus 
Epiphanes ; the  false  images  of  ancient  Babylon  traced 
in  it;  the  general  coloring  of  the  book,  which  reminds 
us  in  no  wdse  of  tlie  writings  of  the  captivity,  which 
corresponds  on  the  contrary,  by  a multitude  of  analo- 
gies, with  the  beliefs,  the  manners,  and  the  peculiar 
fancies  of  the  time  of  the  Seleucidae  ; the  apocalyptic 
character  uf  the  visions;  the  place  of  the  book  in  the 
Hebrew  canon  after  the  series  of  the  prophets;  the 
omission  of  Daniel,  in  the  panegyrics  of  the  xxix.^^  chap- 
ter of  Ecclesiasticus,  in  which  his  rank  was,  as  it  were, 
indicated;  many  other  evidences  which  have  been  de- 
duced, a hundred  times,  leave  no  doubt  that  the  Book 
of  Daniel  was  the  fruit  of  the  great  exaltation  produced 
among  the  Jews  by  the  persecution  of  Antioclins 
Not  in  the  old  prophetic  literature  must  this  book  be 
classed,  but  rather  at  the  head  of  the  apocalyptic  liter 
ature,  as  the  first  model  of  a style  of  composition  in 
which  were  to  take  their  places  after  it,  the  various 
sibylline  poems,  the  Book  of  Enoch,  the  Apocalypse 
of  J@lm,  the  Ascension  of  Isaiah,  and  the  fourth  book 
of  Esdras. 

In  the  history  of  the  origins  of  Christianity,  the  Talmud 
has  hitherto  been  fa^*  too  much  neglected.  I think,  with 


16 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


M.  Geiger,  that  the  true  idea  of  the  circumstances  amid 
which  Jesus  was  brought  forth,  mast  be  sought  in  this 
strange  compilation,  where  so  much  precious  informa- 
tion is  mingled  with  the  most  insignificant  scholasti 
cism.  Christian  theology  and  Jewish  theology  having 
really  followed  two  parallel  paths,  the  history  of  either 
cannot  be  well  understood  without  tlie  history  of  the 
other.  Numberless  material  details  of  the  gospels 
find,  moreover,  their  commentary  in  the  Talmud.  The 
vast  Latin  collections  of  Lightfoot,  Schoettgen,  Bux- 
torf,  and  Otho,  contain  a mass  of  such  information.  I 
have  made  it  a rule  to  verify  in  the  original  every 
quotation  which  I have  made,  without  a single  excep 
tion.  The  aid  which  has  been  rendered  me  in  this 
portion  of  my  labor,  by  a learned  Israelite,  M.  Neu- 
bauer,  who  is  exceedingly  well  versed  in  Talmudic  lit- 
erature, has  enabled  me  to  go  still  further,  and  to  clear 
up  the  most  delicate  portions  of  my  subject  by  some 
new  comparisons.  The  distinction  of  epochs  is  here 
very  important,  the  compilation  of  the  Talmud  extend- 
ing from  the  year  200  to  the  year  500,  nearly.  We 
have  brought  to  this  as  much  discrimination  as  is  pos- 
sible in  the  present  condition  of  these  studies.  Dates 
BO  recent  will  excite  some  fears  among  persons  accus 
tomed  to  acco^’d  value  to  a document  only  for  the  pe 
riod  at  which  it  was  written.  But  sucli  scruples  woulc 
liere  be  out  of  place.  The  teaching  of  the  Jews  from 
the  Asmonean  epoch  to  the  second  century,  was  prin 
fipally  oral.  We  must  not  judge  such  intellectua 
conditions  after  the  habitudes  of  a time  in  which  iniicl 
is  written.  The  Yedas,  the  ancient  Arab  poems,  were 
preserved  by  jnemory  for  centuries,  and  yet  these 
•ompositions  present  a very  definite  and  very  delicate 


INTRODUCTION. 


n 


form.  In  the  Talmud  on  the  contrary,  the  form  is  ol 
no  account.  We  must  add,  that  before  the  Mischna 
of  Judah  the  Holy,  which  superseded  all  the  rest,  there 
were  attempts  at  compilation,  the  first  of  which  date 
back  perhaps  further  than  is  commonly  supposed.  The 
Btyle  of  the  Talmud  is  that  of  running  notes  ; the  com- 
pilers probably  did  nothing  more  than  to  class  under  cer- 
tain titles  tliis  enormous  mass  of  rubbish  which  liad  been 
accumulating  in  the  diflferent  schools  for  generations. 

We  have  yet  to  speak  of  the  documents  which,  be- 
ing presented  as  biographies  of  the  founder  of  Chris- 
tianity, must  of  course  hold  the  first  place  in  a life  of 
Jesus.  A complete  treatise  on  the  compilation  of  the 
gospels  would  be  a volume  of  itself.  Thanks  to  the 
thorough  studies  of  which  this  question  has  been  the 
subject  for  thirty  years,  a pro.l)lem  that  would  formerly 
have  been  deemed  impossible,  has  reached  a solution 
which  leaves  room  for  much  uncertainty,  but  which  is 
amply  suflScient  for  the  demands  of  history.  We  shall 
have  occasion  to  return  to  this  in  our  second  book, 
the  composition  of  the  gospels  having  been  one  of  the 
most  important  events  to  .the  future  of  Christianity 
vvdiich  occurred  during  the  second  half  of  the  first  cen- 
tury. We  shall  here  touch  but  a single  phase  of  the 
subject,  that  which  is  indispensable  to  the  substantia' 
tion  of  our  narrative.  Leaving  aside  all  that  belongs 
to  the  description  of  the  apostolic  times,  we  shall  in 
quire  only  to  what  extent  the  data  furnished  by  the 
gospels  may  be  employed  in  a history  projected  upon 
ational  principles.* 

Let  the  gospels  be  in  part  legendary,  that  is  evident 
since  they  are  full  of  miracles  and  the  supernatural 


• Those  who  wish  aaore  ample  developments  may  consult  besides  the  woik 


18 


ORIGINS  OF  CERI»TIANITY. 


but  there  are  different  species  of  legends.  Nobody 
doubts  the  principal  traits  of  the  life  of  Francis  d’ As- 
sisi, though  in  it  the  supernatural  is  met  at  every  ste.p. 
Nobody,  on  the  contrary,  gives  credence  to  the  “ Life  ot 
Apollonius  of  Tyana,”  because  it  was  written  long  after 
ts  hero,  and  under  the  conditions  of  a pure  romance.  At 
what  period,  by  what  hands,  under  what  conditions 
were  the  gospels  compiled  ? This  is  the  capital  ques- 
tion upon  which  depends  the  opinion  that  we  must 
form  of  their  credibility. 

We  know  that  each  of  the  four  gospels  bears  at  its 
head  the  name  of  a person  known  either  in  the  apos- 
tolic history  or  in  the  gospel  history  itself.  These  four 
persons  are  not  presented  to  us  strictly  as  authors.  The 
formulae  according  to  Matthew,”  according  to 
Mark,” according  to  Luke,” according  to  John,” 
do  not  imply  that  in  the  oldest  opinion,  these  narratives 
had  been  written  from  one  end  to  the  other  by  Mat- 
thew, Mark,  Luke,  and  John  ;*  they  signify  only  that 
those  were  the  traditions  coming  from  each  of  these 
apostles,  and  covered  by  their  authority.  It  is  clear 
that  if  these  titles  are  exact,  the  gospels,  without  ceas- 
ing to  be  in  part  legendary,  assume  a high  value,  since 
they  carry  us  back  to  the  half  century  following  the 
death  of  Jesus,  and  even,  in  two  cases,  to  eye-witnesses 
of  his  acts. 

A s to  Luke,  in  the  first  place,  doubt  is  hardly  possi 
ble.  Luke’s  gospel  is  a regular  composition,  founded 
on  anterior  documents.f  It  is  the  work  of  a man  who 

of  H.  Rcville  already  cited,  the  labors  of  Messrs.  Reuss  and  Scherer  in  the 
U iheologie,  t.  X,  XI,  XV,  nouv.  serie  II,  III.  IV,  and  that  of  M,  I^icolas  in  th* 
JReme  germanique,  sept,  et  dec. , 1862,  avril  et  juin,  1863. 

• So  “ The  Gospel  according  to  the  Hebrews,”  “ The  Gospel  according  to  the 
Egyptians.”  t Luke,  i,  1-4. 


INTRODUCTION. 


19 


selects,  prunes,  combines.  The  author  of  this  gospe 
is  certainly  the  same  as  the  author  of  the  Acts  of  the 
Apostles.*  Isow  the  author  of  the  Acts  is  a compan- 
ion of  St.  Paul,  f a title  perfectly  fitting  to  Luke.:|:  I 

know  that  more  than  one  objection  may  be  interposed 

0 this ; but  one  thing  at  least  is  beyond  doubt,  that 
the  author  of  the  third  gospel  and  of  the  Acts,  is  a 
man  of  the  second  apostolic  generation,  and  that  is 
enough  for  our  purpose.  The  date  of  this  gospel  may, 
moreover,  be  determined  with  much  precision  by  con 
siderations  drawn  from  the  book  itself.  Chapter  xxi, 
inseparable  from  the  rest  of  the  work,  was  certainly 
written  after  the  siege  of  Jerusalem,  and  soon  after.} 
We  are  here,  therefore,  on  firm  ground ; for  we  have  a 
work  written  entirely  by  the  same  hand,  and  of  the 
most  perfect  unity. 

The  gospels  of  Matthew  and  Mark  are  far  from  hav- 
ing the  same  individual  seal.  They  are  impersonal 
compositions,  in  which  the  author  totally  disappears. 
A proper  name  written  at  the  head  of  such  works  does 
not  mean  much.  But  if  the  gospel  of  Luke  is  dated, 
those  of  Matthew  and  Mark  are  also ; for  it  is  certain 
that  the  third  gospel  is  posterior  to  the  first,  and  pre- 
sents the  character  of  a compilation  much  more  ad- 
vanced. We  have  besides,  in  this  respect,  a most  im- 
portant testimonial  of  the  first  half  of  the  second  cen 
tury.  It  is  by  Papias,  bishop  of  Hierapolis,  a man  of 
weight,  a man  of  tradition,  who  was  all  his  life  atten 
ive  to  the  collection  of  whatever  could  be  learned  of 

• 1, 1.  Comp.  Luke,  i,  1-4. 

♦ From  XVI,  10  onward,  the  author  speaks  as  an  eye-witness. 

1 2 Tim.,  IV,  11;  Philem.,  24;  Col. , iv,  14.  The  name  Lvxxis  (a  contractor  of 
lAicanm)  being  very  rare,  we  need  fear  none  of  those  homonymies  which  tb 
10  many  perplexities  over  critical  questions  relative  to  the  New  Testament. 

1 Verses  9, 20, 24, 28, 32  Comp,  xxii,  36. 


20 


ORIGmS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


the  person  of  Jesus.*  After  declaring  that  in  such  a 
matter  lie  prefers  oral  tradition  to  books,  Papiaa 
mentions  two  written  works  on  the  words  and  deed? 
of  Christ ; first,  a work  of  Mark,  the  interpreter  of  tlie 
apostle  Peter,  brief,  incomplete,  not  arranged  in  chro 
iiological  order,  comprising  narratives  and  sayings 
*5  ^pap(;^£VTa),  composed  from  the  accounts  and 
reminiscences  of  the  apostle  Peter ; secondly,  a col- 
lection of  sayings  (Xoyia)  written  in  Hebrewf  by  Mat 
tliew,  “ and  which  everybody  has  translated  as  best  he 
could.”  Certain  it  is  that  these  two  descriptions  cor* 
respond  very  well  to  the  general  physiognomy  of  the 
two  books  now  called  The  Gospel  according  to  Mat- 
thew,” and  The*  Gospel  according  to  Mark,”  the  first 
characterized  by  its  long  discourses ; the  second,  full 
of  anecdote,  much  more  exact  than  the  first  in  regard 
to  minute  acts,  brief  to  dryness,  poor  in  discourses  and 
badly  composed.  That  these  two  works  as  we  read 
them  are  absolutely  similar  to  those  which  Papias 
read,  cannot  be  maintained ; in  the  first  place,  be- 
cause the  work  of  Matthew  to  Papias  was  composed 
exclusively  of  discourses  in  Hebrew,  of  which  transla- 
tions varying  considerably  were  in  circulation,  and  in 
the  second  place,  because  the  work  of  Mark  and  that 
of  Matthew  were  to  him  quite  distinct,  compiled 
without  any  concord,  and,  it  seems,  written  in  differ- 
rnt  languages.  Now,  in  the  present  condition  of  the 
texts,  the  Gospel  according  to  Matthew  and  the  Gos- 
pel according  to  Mark  present  parallel  passages  so 

• In  Eusebius,  Hist.  eccl.  Ill,  39.  No  doubt  whatever  can  be  raised  as  to  thi 
authenticity  of  this  passage.  Eusebius,  in  fact,  far  from  exaggerating  the  au 
fchority  of  Papias,  is  embarrassed  by  bis  simplicity,  his  erude  millenarmnism 
and  explains  it  by  treating  him  a.s  a small  mind.  Comp.  Iren?eus,  Adv.  hcer. , III,  i 

♦ That  is,  m a Semitic  dialect. 


INTRODUCTION. 


21 


lucg  and  bo  perfectly  identical  that  we  must  sup 
pose,  either  that  the  final  compiler  of  the  first  had 
the  second  before  him,  or  that  both  have  copied  the 
fame  prototype.  What  appears  most  probable  ia 
I hat  neither  of  Matthew  nor  of  Mark  have  we  the 
original  compilations;  that  our  two  first  gospels  are 
already  arrangements  in  which  there  has  been  an  at 
tempt  to  fill  the  hiatuses  in  one  text  by  another.  Each 
wished  indeed  to  possess  a complete  copy.  He  whc 
had  only  the  discourses  in  his  copy,  desired  to  have  the 
narratives,  and  vice  versa.  Thus  ‘‘  the  Gospel  accord- 
ing to  Matthew”  is  found  to  have  incorporated  nearly 
all  the  anecdotes  of  Mark,  and  the  Gospel  according 
to  Mark  ” now  contains  a multitude  of  traits  which 
came  from  the  Logia  of  Matthew.  Each  moreovei 
drew  largely  from  the  evangelical  traditions  contin 
uing  about  him.  These  traditions  are  so  far  from 
having  been  exhausted  by  the  gospels,  that  the  Acts 
of  the  Apostles  and  the  most  ancient  Fathers  quote 
many  sayings  of  Jesus  which  appear  authentic,  and 
which  ai'e  not  found  in  the  gospels  that  we  possess. 

It  is  of  small  importance  to  our  present  object  to 
carry  this  delicate  analysis  farther,  and  to  endeavor  to 
reconstruct  in  some  manner,  on  the  one  hand,  the  ori- 
ginal Logia  of  Matthew ; on  the  other,  the  primitive 
narration  as  it  flowed  from  the  pen  of  Mark.  The 
TiOgia  are  undoubtedly  represented  to  us  by  the  gran 
discourses  of  Jesus,  which  fill  a considerable  portio 
of  the  first  gospel.  These  discourses  form,  indeed, 
when  detached  from  the  rest,  a tolerably  complete 
whole.  As  to  the  narratives  of  the  first  and  second 
gospels,  they  seem  to  be  based  upon  a common  doem 
inent,  the  text  of  which  is  found  sometimes  in  one  aiidf 


22 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


sometimes  in  the  other,  and  of  which  the  second  gos* 
pel,  as  we  now  find  it,  is  but  a slightly  modified  repro- 
duction. In  other  words,  the  system  of  the  life  of  Je* 
BUS  with  the  synoptics  rests  upon  two  original  docu- 
ments : first,  the  discourses  of  Jesus  collected  by  the 
apostle  Matthew  ^ second,  the  collection  of  anecdote? 
and  personal  information  which  Mark  wrote  from  Fe 
ter’s  reminiscences.  We  may  say  that  we  now  have 
these  two  documents,  mingled  with  matter  from  other 
sources,  in  the  two  first  gospels,  which  bear  not  wrong- 
fully the  name  of  Gospel  according  to  Matthew,” 
and  Gospel  according  to  Mark.” 

There  can  be  no  doubt,  at  all  events,  that  at  a very 
early  day  the  discourses  of  Jesus  were  reduced  to  wri- 
ting in  the  Aramaean  language,  and  that  at  an  early 
day  also  his  remarkable  deeds  were  recorded.  These 
were  not  texts  settled  and  fixed  dogmatically.  Besides 
the  gospels  which  have  reached  us,  there  were  a mul- 
titude of  others  professing  to  represent  the  traditions 
of  eye-witnesses.*  Little  importance  was  attached  to 
these  writings,  and  the  collectors,  like  Papias,  much 
preferred  oral  tradition.f  As  they  believed  the  world 
near  its  end,  they  cared  little  to  compose  books  for 
the  future ; it  was  important  only  to  preserve  in 
their  hearts  the  living  image  of  him  whom  they 
hoped  soon  to  see  again  in  the  clouds.  Hence  the 
ittle  authority  which  the  evangelical  texts  possessed 
or  a hundred  and  fifty  years.  There  was  no  scrupl 
abnut  inserting  additions,  combining  them  diversely, 
r completing  some  by  oth^Sj^  The  poor  man  who 

• Luke.  1,1, 2,  Origen,  Horn,  in  Luc.  I,  init.;  St.  Jerome,  Cbmment  .n  McU.^  prol 

* Fapi^,  in  Eusebius,  H.  E.y  III,  39.  Comp.  Irenaeus,  Adv.  har.  HI,  li  et  in 


INTRODUCTION. 


23 


has  but  one  book,  desires  it  to  contain  all  tlMt  speaks 
to  Ills  heart.  They  lent  these  little  rolls  to  one  ano- 
ther : each  transcribed  on  the  margin  of  his  copy  the 
sayings  and  the  parables  which  he  found  elsewhere 
md  which  touched  him.*  The  finest  thing  in  the 
world  thus  resulted  from  an  obscure  and  entirely  pop> 
ular  elaboration.  ^No_  compilation  had  absolute  value. 
Justin,  who  often  appeals  to  what  he  calls  the  me- 
moirs of  the  apostles/’f  had  before  him  a condition  of 
the  evangelical  documents  considerably  differing  from 
that  which  we  have ; at  alt  events,  he  takes  no  care 
to  cite  them  textually-  The  gospel  quotations  in  the 
pseudo-Clementine  writings  of  Ebionite  origin,  present 
the  same  character.  The  spirit  was  everything  ; the 
letter  nothing.  I-Lxras  when  tradition  grew  weak  in 
the  latter  half  of  the  second  century  that  the  texts 
bearing  the  names  of  the  apostles  assumed  decisive 
authority  and  obtained  the  force  of  law. 

Who  does  not  see  the  preciousness  of  documents 
thus  composed  of  the  tender  memories,  of  the  simple 
recitals  of  the  two  first  Christian  generations,  yet  filled 
with  the  strong  impression  which  the  founder  had 
made,  and  which  seems  long  to  have  survived  him  ? 
These  gospels  too,  appear  to  come  through  that  branch 
of  the  Christian  family  which  was  most  closely  allied 
to  Jesus.  Tli^  last  labor  of  compilation,  at  least  of  the 
text  which  bears  the  name  of  Matthew,  appears  to 
have  been  done  in  one  of  the  countries  situated  to  the 
north-east  of  Palestine,  such  as  Gaulonitis,  Haouran 

• Thus  the  beautiful  story  John,  viii,  1-11,  has  floated  continually  withonf 
ending  its  fixed  place  in  the  framework  of  the  received  gospels. 

t Tot  d^o(Jjvr)[MovSj[xara  tojv  a<7r'ofl'ToXwv,  a xaXsTrat  ffuayysXio. 

Justm,  Apol  , 1, 33,  66,  67,  Dial  cum  Tryph. , 10, 100, 101, 102,  103, 104,  105, 100,  107 


24 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


or  Batanea,  where  many  Christians  took  refuge  during 
the  Eoman  war,  where  the  relatives  of  Jesus  were 
still  found  in  the  second  century,*  and  where  the  first 
Galilean  direction  was  preserved  longer  than  any 
where  else. 

Hitherto  we  have  spoken  only  of  the  three  gospels 
called  synoptic.  We  h-ave  now  to  speak  of  the  fourth 
that  which  bears  the  name  of  John.  Here  is  much 
more  ground  for  doubts,  and  the  question  is  less  near 
a solution.  Papias,  who  belonged  to  the  school  of 
John,  and  who,  if  he  had  not  heard  him,  as  Irenaeus 
will  have  it,  had  attended  much  upon  his  immediate 
disciples,  among  others  Aristion,  and  he  who  was 
called  Presbyteros  Jocmnes^  Papias,  who  had  eagerly 
collected  the  oral  narrations  of  this  Aristion  and 
Presbyteros  Joannes^  says  not  a word  of  a ‘‘  Life  of 
Jesus’^  written  by  John.  Had  any  such  mention  been 
found  in  his  work,  Eusebius,  who  extracts  from  him 
all  that  is  of  value  for  the  literary  history  of  the 
apostolic  century,  would  undoubtedly  have  remarked 
it.  The  intrinsic  diflSculties  drawn  from  the  read- 
ing of  the  fourth  gospel  itself  are  equally  great. 
How  is  it  that  by  the  side  of  definite  details,  which 
savor  so  strongly  of  an  eye-witness,  we  find  such  dis- 
courses, totally  different  from  those  of  Matthew  ? 
How,  by  the  side  of  a general  plan  of  a life  of  Je^ 
euB,  which  appears  much  more  satisfactory  and  exact 
tlian  that  of  the  synoptics,  these  singular  passages  in 
which  we  perceive  a dogmatic  interest  peculiar  to  the 
compiler,  ideas  entirely  foreign  to  Jesus,  and  some^iiuea 
indications  which  put  us  on  our  guard  as  to  tlie  good 


^ Julius  Africanus,  in  Fusebius,  Hi&\  ecci  , 1, 7. 


INTRODUCTION. 


26 


faith  of  the  narrator  ? How,  in  short,  by  tlie  side  of 
the  purest,  the  most  jnst,  the  most  truly  evangeJcal 
views,  these  spots  in  which  we  would  fain  see  the  in- 
terpolations of  an  ardent  sectary  ? Is  it  indeed  John, 
the  son  of  Zebedee,  the  brother  of  Jaiiies,  (of  whom 
no  single  mention  is  made  in  the  fourth  gospel),  wh 
Was  able  to  write  in  Greek  tliese  lessons  of  abstract 
metaphysics  to  which  neither  the  synoptics  nor  the 
Talmud  present  any  analogy?,.^]!  this  is  weiglity, 
and,  for  my  part,  I dare  not  be  certain  that  the  fourth 
gospel  was  written  entirely  by  the  pen  of  an  ex-fisher- 
man  of  Galilee.  ^Ihit  tliat  in  substance  this  gospel  is- 
sued towards  the  end  of  the  first  century,  from  the 
great  school  of  Asia  Minor,  which  held  to  John,  that 
it  presents  to  us  a version  of  the  Master’s  life,  worthy 
of  high  consideration  and  often  of  preference,  is  de- 
monstrated, both  by  external  evidence  and  by  the  ex- 
amination of  the  document  itself,  in  a manner  that 
leaves  nothing  to  be  desired. 

And  fii  st,  there  is  no  doubt  that  towards  the  year  150 
the  fourth  gospel  was  in  existence  and  was  attributed  to 
John.  Formal  texts  of  St.  Justin,*  x\thenagoras,f  Ta- 
tian,:};  Theophilus  of  Antioch, | and  Iren^us,|  slmw  that 
from  that  time  this  gospel  was  used  in  all  controversies, 
and  served  as  the  corner-stone  for  the  development  oi 
the  doQtrine.  Irenseus  is  formal ; now,  Irenseus  is  of  the 
school  of  John,  and  between  him  and  the  apostle  there 
was  only  Polycarp.  The  part  of  this  gospel  in  guost 
iclsm,  and  particularly  in  the  system  of  Valentine,^  in 

• Apol. , I,  32,  61;  Dial,  cum  Tryph. , 88.  f Legatiopro  Christ.,  W. 
t Adv,  Groec.,  5,  7.  Cf.  Eusebius,  H.  jE?.,  IV,  29;  Theodoret,  IToerdic.  faJtmt  I»  30. 

I Ad  Autolycum,  II,  22.  § Adv.  hoer. , II,  xxii,  5;  III,  i,  Cf.  Eus. , H.  E.,  V.  8. 

f Ireuaeus,  Adv.  hcer.,  1.  in  6;  III,  xi,  7;  St.  Hippolytus,  Philosophumma^ 

II,  29  srqq.  ‘ 

S 


26 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


Montanism'^  and  in  tlie  contest  of  the  Qiiartodecima!- 
ni,f  is  no  less  decisive.  The  school  of  John  is  that 
the  course  of  which  is  most  clearly  seen  during  the 
second  century ; now,  this  school  cannot  be  under 
stood  if  we  do  not  plaice  the  fourth  gospel:]:  at  its  very 
radle.  The  first  epistle  also,  attributed  to  St.  Jbhn, 
is  certainly  by  the  same  author  as  the  fourth  gospel  • 
now  the  epistle  is  identified  as  John’s  by  Poly  carp  J 
Papias§  and  Irenseus.^ 

But  above  all  the  book  itself  is  of  an  impressive 
character.  The  author  speaks  continually  as  an  eye- 
witness ; he  desires  to  pass  for  the  apostle  John.  If 
therefore,  this  work  is  not  really  by  the  apostle,  we 
must  admit  a deception  which  the  author  confesses  to 
himself.  Now,  although  the  ideas  of  that  day  were, 
in  matters  of  literary  honesty,  essentially  different  from 
ours,  we  have  no  example  in  the  apostolic  world,  of  a 
forgery  of  this  kind.  Moreover,  not  only  does  the  au- 
thor desire  to  pass  for  the  apostle  John,  but  we  see 
clearly  that  he  writes  in  the  interest  of  that  apostle. 
On  every  page  the  intention  is  betrayed  of  showing 
that  he  was  the  favorite  of  Jesus,**  that  upon  all  the 
most  solemn  occasions  (at  the  Supper,  on  Calvary,  at 
the  grave)  he  held  the  first  place.  The  relations,  fra- 
ternal on  the  whole,  though  not  excluding  a certain 
rivalry,  of  the  author  with  Peter, ff  his  hatred  on  the 
contrary  to  Judas,:}::}:  a hatred  perhaps  anterior  to  the 
betrayal,  seem  to  disclose  themselves  here  and  there. 

P 4^v.  hcer.,  Ill,  xi,  9.  + Eusebius,  H.  E.  V,  24. 

% % i,  3,  6.  T^e  two  works  present  the  most  complete  identity  of  rtylt, 
weme  peculiarities,  the  same  favorite  expressions. 

I Epist.  ad  PhiUp.,  7.  § In  Eusebius,  H.  E.y  III,  39. 

**■  4dv.  hcBT.y  III,  xvj,  5, 3.  Cf.  Eusebius,  B.  E.,  V,  8. 

~ XIX,  26;  XX,  2,  XXI,  7,  20. 

15, 16;  XX;  XXI,  16-19.  tt  vi,  65;  xii,  6;  xni,21  seqq 


INTRODUCTION. 


27 


We  are  tempted  to  believe  that  John,  in  h;s  old  age^ 
having  read  the  evangelical  narrations  which  were  in 
circulation,  remarked,  on  the  one  hand,  various  inac* 
curacies,*  on  the  other  hand,  was  wounded  at  seeing 
that  there  had  not  been  accorded  to  him  a sufficiently 
iromineut  place  in  the  history  of  Christ ; that  then  he 
oegaii  to  dictate  many  things  which  he  knew  better 
than  the  rest,  with  the  intention  of  showing*  that  in  a 
great  number  of  cases  in  which  mention  had  been 
made  of  Peter  only,  he  had  figured  with  and  before 
him.f  Already  in  the  lifetime  of  Jesus,  this  slight 
feeling  of  jealousy  had  betrayed  itself  between  the 
sons  of  Zebedee  and  the  other  disciples.^  Since  the 
death  of  James,  his  brother,  John  was  the  sole  pos^ 
sessor  of  the  affectionate  memories  of  which  these  two 
disciples,  by  the  confession  of  all,  were  the  deposita- 
ries. Hence  his  perpetual  care  to  keep  in  mind  that  he 
is  the  last  surviving  eye-witness, | and  the  pleasure  that 
he  takes  in  relating  circumstances  with  which  he  alone 
could  be  acquainted.  Hence  so  many  little  traits  of 
precision  which  seem  like  the  scholia  of  an  annotator  : 
It  was  the  sixth  hour;”  ‘‘it  was  night;”  “the  ser- 
vant’s name  was  Malchus ;”  “ they  had  made  a fire  of 
coals,  for  it  was  cold ;”  “ now  the  coat  was  without 
seam.”  Hence,  finally,  the  disorder  of  the  compila- 
tion, the  irregularity  of  the  progress,  the  disconnec- 
tion of  the  first  chapters  ; so  many  things  inexplicable 
on  the  supposition  that  this  gospel  is  only  a theologi- 

• rhe  manner  in  which  Aristion  or  Presbyteros  Joanna  expressed  himself  on  the 
Gospel  of  Mark  before  Papias  (Eusebius,  H.  E.,  Ill,  39,)  implies,  indeed,  a kind 
criticism,  or  rather  a sort  of  excuse,  which  seems  to  suppose  that  John’s  discl< 
pies  had  some  better  conception  of  the  same  subject. 

t Com.  John,  xviii,  15  seqq.,  with  Matt,  xxvi,  68;  John,  xx,  2-6,  ¥Tith  Mark 
EVi,7.  See  also  John,  XIII,  24,  25. 

iSee  hereafter,  p.  162. 

X,  14;  XIX,  35;  XXI,  24  seqq  Comp,  the  first  epistle  of  St.  John  t,  3, 5 


28 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


cal  thesis  without  historical  value,  and  which,  on  tha 
contrary,  are  perfectly  comprehensible,  if  we  see  in 
them,  according  to  the  tradition,  the  memories  of  an 
old  man,  sometimes  of  marvellous  freshness,  sometimes 
Laving  suffered  strange  mutations. 

A capital  distinction,  indeed,  must  be  made  in  tlie 
gospel  of  John.  On  tlie  one  hand,  this  gospel  presents 
to  us  a picture  of  the  life  of  Jesus  which  differs  con- 
siderably  from  that  of  the  sj^noptics.  On  the  other, 
he  puts  into  the  mouth  of  Jesus  discourses,  the  tone, 
the  style,  the  manner,  the  doctrines  of  which  have  no 
thing  in  common  with  the  Logia  reported  by  the  sy- 
noptics. Under  this  second  relation  the  difference  is 
so  great  that  we  must  make  a decided  choice.  If 
Jesus  spoke  as  Matthew  has  it,  he  could  not  have  "spo- 
ken as  John  has  it.  Between  the  two  authorities,  no 
critic  has  hesitated,  none  will  hesitate.  A thousand 
miles  from  the  simple,  disinterested,  impersonal  tone 
of  the  synoptics,  the  gospel  of  John  discovers  continu- 
ally the  preoccupations  of  the  apologist,  the  after- 
thoughts ot  the  sectary,  the  intention  of  proving  a the- 
sis and  of  convincing  adversaries.*  Not  by  preten- 
tious, heavy,  badly-written  tirades,  saying  little  to  the 
moral  sense,  did  Jesus  found  his  divine  work.  Even 
if  Papias  liad  not  told  us  that  Matthew  wrote  the  say- 
ings of  Jesus  in  their  original  tongue,  the  naturalness, 
the  ineffable  truth,  the  peerless  charm  of  the  synoptic 
discourses,  their  thoroughly  Hebraic  manner,  the  ana- 
logies which  they  present  to  the  sayings  of  the  Jewish 
doctors  of  the  same  period,  their  perfect  harmony  with 

• See,  for  example,  chap,  ix  and  xi.  Notice  especially  the  strange  effect  oi 
pafsages like  XIX,  35;  xx,  31;  xxi,  20-23,  24-25,  when  we  remember  tbf 
total  absence  of  reflections  which  distinguishes  the  synoptics. 


INTRODUCTION. 


29 


GaSlean  nature,  all  these  characters,  if  we  eoLipare 
them  with  the  obscure  gnosticism  and  the  distorted 
metaphysics  which  fill  the  discourses  of  Jchn,  speak 
loudly  enough.  This  does  not  mean  that  there  are  not 
in  the  discourses  of  John  wonderful  flashes  of  lights 
touches  which  come  really  from  Jesus.*  But  the  mys* 
tic  tone  of  these  discourses  corresponds  in  no  wise  to 
the  character  of  the  eloquence  of  Jesus  such  as  we 
imagine  it  from  the  synoptics.  A new  spirit  has  come; 
gnosticism  has  already  commenced  ; the  Galilean  era 
of  the  kingdom  of  God  is  ended ; the  hope  of  the 
speedy  coming  of  Christ  grows  dim  ; we  are  entering 
into  the  aridities  of  metaphysics,  into  the  darkness  of 
abstract  dogma.  The  spirit  of  Jesus  is  not  there,  and 
if  the  son  of  Zebedee  really  traced  these  pages,  cer- 
tainly he  had  entirely  forgotten  while  writing  them 
the  lake  of  Genesareth,  and  the  delightful  conversa- 
tions which  he  had  heard  upon  its  banks, 

A circumstance,  moreover,  which  fully  proves  that 
the  discourses  reported  by  the  fourth  gospel  are  not 
historic,  but  compositions  intended  to  cover  with  the 
authority  of  Jesus,  certain  doctrines  dear  to  the  com- 
piler, is  their  perfect  harmony  with  the  intellectual 
state  of  Asia  Minor,  at  the  time  they  were  written. 
Asia  Minor  was  then  the  theatre  of  a singular  move- 
ment of  syncretic  philosophy ; all  the  germs  of  gnos- 
ticism were  already  in  existence.  John  appears  to 
have  drunk  from  these  foreign  fountains.  It  may  be 
that  after  the  crises  of  the  year  68  (the  date  of  the  apo* 
calypse)  and  the  year  70  (the  fall  of  Jerusalem),  the 
old  apostle,  with  his  ardent  andTHiobile  soul,  disabused 


• For  example  iv,  1 seqq. ; xv,  12  seqq.  Many  sayings  recounted  by  John  are 
found  in  the  synoptics  (xii,  16;  xv,  20). 


30 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


of  the  belief  in  the  speedy  appearance  of  the  Son  it 
man  in  the  clouds,  inclined,  towards  the  ideas  which  he 
found  about  him,  manj  of  which  readily  amalgamated 
with  certain  Christian  doctrines.  In  attributing  tliesa 
new  ideas  to  Jesus,  he  but  followed  a very  natural  in 
ciination.  Our  memories  are  transformed  with  all  tli 
rest ; the  idea  of  a person  whom  we  have  known, 
changes  with  us.*  Considering  Jesus  as  the  incarna- 
tion of  truth,  John  could  not  but  attribute  to  him  what 
he  had  come  to  take  for  truth. 

And  now  finally,  we  will  add  that  probably  John 
himself  had  small  part  in  this,  that  this  change  was 
made  around  him  rather  than  by  him.  We  are  some- 
times tempted  to  believe  that  precious  words,  coming 
from  the  apostle,  were  employed  by  his  disciples  in  a 
sense  very  different  from  the  primitive  evangelical 
spirit.  Indeed,  certain  portions  of  the  fourth  gospel 
have  been  added  afterwards;  such  is  the  twenty-first 
chapter  entire, f in  which  the  author  seems  to  have  in- 
tended to  render  homage  to  the  apostle  Peter  after  his 
death,  and  to  reply  to  the  objections  which  might  be, 
or  which  had  already  been,  drawn  from  the  death  of 
John  himself  (v.  21-23).  Several  other  passages  bear 
traces  of  erasures  and  corrections.:]: 

It  is  impossible,  at  this  distance,  to  possess  the  key 
of  all  these  singular  problems,  and  doubtless,  many 
surprises  would  be  in  reserve  for  us,  could  we  penetrate 
into  the  secrets  of  this  mysterious  school  of  Ephesus, 
which  more  than  once  appears  to  have  taken  delight 

* Thus  Napoleon  became  a liberal  in  the  memory  of  his  companions  in  exUe, 
f^hen  they,  after  their  return,  were  thrown  into  the  midst  of  the  political  society 
of  the  lime. 

t The  verses  xx,  80-31,  evidently  formed  the  ancient  conclusion. 

X VI,  2,  22;  VH,  22 


INTRODUCTION. 


81 


in  obscure  paths.  But  a decisive  test  :s  this.  Every 
person  who  sits  d3wii  to  write  the  life  of  Jesus  without 
a rigid  theory  as  to  the  relative  value  ol  the  gospels, 
allowing  himself  to  be  guided  entirely  by  the  senti 
meut  of  the  subject,  will  be  led  in  a multitude  of  cases 
to  prefer  the  narrative  of  John  to  that  of  the  synop- 
tics. The  last  months  of  the  life  of  Jesus  in  particular 
are  explained  only  by  John ; many  features  of  the 
Passion,  unintelligible  in  the  synoptics,*  assume  in  the 
relation  of  the  fourth  gospel,  probability  and  possibili 
ty.  On  the  contrary,  I dare  defy  any  person  to  com 
pose  a consistent  life  of  Jesus,  if  he  makes  account  ol 
the  discourses  which  John  attributes  to  Jesus.  This 
style  of  extolling  himself  and  demonstrating  himself 
incessantly,  this  perpetual  ai alimentation,  this  scenic 
representation  without  simplicity,  these  long  moraliz- 
ings  at  the  end  of  each  miracle,  these  stiflf  and  awk- 
ward discourses,  the  tone  of  which  is  so  often  false  and 
unequal,f  are  unendurable  to  a man  of  taste  by  the 
side  of  the  delicious  sayings  of  the  synoptics.  We 
have  here,  evidently,  artificial  pieces,^  which  repre- 
sent to  us  the  teachings  of  Jesus,  as  the  dialogues  of 
Plato  render  to  us  the  conversation  of  Socrates.  They 
are  in  some  sort  the  variations  of  a musician  improvis- 
ing on  his  own  account  upon  a given  theme.  The 
theme  may  be  not  without  some  authenticity ; but  in 
the  execution,  the  artist  gives  his  fantasy  full  play. 
We  feel  the  factitious  procedure,  the  rhetoric,  the  gloss.  | 

• For  example,  that  which  concerns  the  announcement  of  the  treachery 
Judas. 

+ See,  for  example,  ii,  26;  iii,  32, 33,  and  the  long  dispu  lations  of  chap,  vu- 
viii  and  ix.  ' 

X Often  we  feel  that  the  author  seeks  pretexts  for  bringing  in  discourses  (ch 
in,  V,  VIII,  XIII  seqq. 

I For  example,  chap  xvii. 


32 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


Besides,  the  vocabulary  of  Jesus  is  not  foui.d  in  the 
fragments  of  which  we  are  speaking.  The  expression 

kingdom  of  God,”  which  was  so  familiar  to  the  maS' 
ter,*  is  seen  but  once.f  On  the  other  hand,  the  style  of 
the  discourses  attributed  to  Jesus  by  the  fourth  gospel, 
presents  the  most  complete  analogy  to  that  of  the  epis- 
tles of  St.  John  ; we  see  that  in  writing  his  discourses, 
the  author  followed,  not  his  memories,  but  the  rather 
monotonous  movement  of  his  own  thought.  An  entire 
new  mystic  language  is  unfolded,  a language  of  which 
the  synoptics  had  not  the  least  idea  world,”  ‘Hruth,” 
‘Mife,”  ‘‘light,”  “ darkness,”  etc.).  Had  Jesus  ever 
spoken  in  this  style,  which  has  in  it  nothing  Hebrew, 
nothing  Jewish,  nothing  Talmudic,  if  linay  so  express 
myself,  how  could  a single  one  of  his  hearers  have 
kept  the  secret  so  well. 

Literary  history  furnishes,  moreover,  another  exam- 
ple which  presents  the  closest  analogy  with  the  histo- 
rical phenomena  that  we  have  described,  and  which 
serves  to  explain  it.  Socrates,  who  like  Jesus,  did  not 
write,  is  known  to  us  by  two  of  his  disciples,  Xeno- 
phon and  Plato,  the  first  corresponding  by  his  lim- 
pid, transparent,  impersonal  style,  to  the  synoptics,  the 
second  reminding  us,  by  his  vigorous  individuality,  of 
the  author  of  the  fourth  gospel.  To  set  forth  the  So- 
cratic  teaching,  must  we  follow  the  “ Dialogues  ” of 
Plato,  or  the  “Memorabilia”  of  Xenophon?  There 
can  be  no  doubt  in  regard  to  this ; the  whole  world 
cleaves  to  the  “Memorabilia,”  and  not  to  the  “ Dia- 
logues.” Does  Plato,  however,  teach  us  nothing  in 
’•egard  to  Socrates  ? Would  a careful  critic,  in  writing 

• Besiies  the  synopUos,  the  Acts,  the  Epistle  of  St.  Paul  and  the  Apocalypai 
attest  it  t J 3, 5 


INTRODUCTION. 


^.86 

the  biogi’apliy  of  the  latter,  neglect  the  'Dial  jgues  ?’■ 
Who  would  dare  to  maintain  that?  The  analogy, 
moreover,  is  not  complete,  and  the  diflerence  *B  in  fa- 
vor of  the  fourth  gospel. 

The  author  of  this  gospel  is,  in  feet,  the  better  bio 
grapher,  as  if  Plato,  although  attributing  to  his  mas- 
ter fictitious  discourses,  knew  most  important  things 
in  regard  to  his  life,  of  wliich  Xenophon  was  entirely 
ignorant. 

Without  pronouncing  upon  the  material  question, 
what  hand  traced  the  fourth  gospel,  and  even  while 
inclining  to  believe  that  the  discourses  at  least  are  not 
by  the  son  of  Zebedee,  we  admit,  therefore,  that  this  is 
really  “ the  Gospel  according  to  John,”  in  the  same 
sense  as  the  first  and  second  gpspels  are  really  the  gos- 
pels ^‘according  to  Matthew,”  aid  ‘‘according  to 
Mark.”  The  historical  sketch  of  the  fourth  gospel  is 
the  life  of  Jesus  as  it  was  known  in  the  school  of  John  ; 
it  is  the  relation  which  Aristion  and  Pm^^eros  Jo- 
annes gave  to  Papias  without  telling  him  that  it  was 
written,  or  rather  attaching  no  importance  to  that  pe- 
culiarity. I will  add  that,  in  my  opinion,  this  school 
was  better  acquainted  with  the  external  circumstances 
of  the  life  of  the  founder  than  the  group  whose  mem- 
ories made  up  the  synoptic  gospels.  It  had,  especially 
m regard  to  the  sojourns  of  Jesus  at  Jerusalem,  data 
which  the  others  did  not  possess.  The  adherents  of 
he  school  treated  Mark  as  an  indifferent  biographer, 
iid  bad  invented  a system  to  explain  his  hiatuses.* 
Certain  passages  of  Luke,  in  wliich  there  is,  as  it  were, 
an  echo  of  the  Johannic  traditions, f prove,  moreover 

♦ Papias,  Zoc.  cii. 

t Thus  the  pardon  of  the  woman  taken  in  adultery,  the  acquaintanee  of  Luki 
with  the  family  of  Bethany , his  tyi  e of  the  character  of  Mai'iha  am  weriug  to  th, 

2* 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


32 

that  these  traditions  were  not  entirely  unknown  to  the 
rest  of  the  Christian  family. 

These  elucidations  will  be  sufficient,  I think,  to  show, 
in  the  course  of  the  narrative,  the  motives  which  de- 
termined me  to  give  the  preference  to  one  or  another 
of  the  four  guides  which  we  have  for  the  life  of  Jesus. 
Upon  the  whole,  I accept  the  four  canonical  gospels  as 
authentic.  All,  in  my  judgment,  date  back  to  the  first 
century,  and  they  are  substantially  by  the  authors  to 
whom  they  aie  attributed;  hut  in  historic  value  they 
are  very  unequal.  Matthew  clearly  deserves  unlimit- 
ed confidence  as  regards  the  discourses;  he  gives  the 
Logia^  actual  notes  from  a clear  and  living  memory  of 
the  teaching  of  Jesus.  A splendor  at  once  soft  and 
terrible,  a divine  power,  if  I may  use  the  term,  itali- 
ces  these  words,  detaches  them  from  the  context,  and 
renders  them  easily  recognizable  to  the  critic.  Ha 
who  attempts  the  task  of  forming  a regular  composi- 
tion out  of  the  gospel  history,  possesses  in  this  respect 
an  excellent  touchstone.  The  real  words  of  Jesus  will 
not  be  concealed ; as  soon  as  we  touch  them  in  this 
chaos  of  traditions  of  unequal  value,  we  feel  them  vi- 
brate ; they  come  spontaneously,  and  take  their  own 
place  in  the  narration.,  where  they  stand  out  in  unpar- 
alleled relief. 

The  narrative  portions  grouped  in  the  first  gospel 
about  this  primitive  knot,  have  not  the  same  authority 
There  are  in  them  many  legends  of  a rather  fiaccid 
contour,  sprung  from  the  piety  of  the  sec  ond  Christian 

Sl^iycoxSl  of  John  (XII,  2),  the  incident  of  the  woman  who  wiped  the  feet  of  Jt. 
BUS  with  her  hair,  a dim  notion  of  the  journeys  of  Jesus  to  Jerusalem,  the  idea 
that  he  appeared  at  the  Passion  before  three  authorities,  the  opinion  of  the  au- 
thor that  some  of  the  disciples  witnessed  the  crucifixion,  his  acquaintance  with 
the  action  of  Annas  by  the  side  of  Caiaphas , .he  appearanoe  of  the  angel  in  the 
figony  (comp.  John,  xn,  28-29). 


INTRODUCTION. 


35 


^ eneration.'^  The  gQSpel  of  Mark  is  much  more  firm, 
more  precise,  less  cumbered  with  fables  of  later  insei- 
tion.  Of  the  three  synoptics,  this  has  come  to  us  tlie 
oldest,  the  most  original,  that  to  which  fewest  subse- 
quent elements  have  been  added.  The  material  detai'l 
in  M^lrk  have  a precision  which  we  seek  in  vain  in  the 
other  evangelists.  He  is  fond  of  reporting  certain 
words  of  Jesus  in  Syro-chaldaic.f  He  is  full  of  minute 
observations  coming  without  any  doubt  from  an  eye- 
witness. Nothing  opposes  the  idea  that  this  eye-wit- 
ness, who  evidently  had  followed  Jesus,  who  had 
loved  him  and  known  him  intimately,  and  who  had  a 
living  remembrance  of  him,  was  the  apostle  Peter 
himself,  as  Papias  says. 

As  to  the  work  of  Luke,  its  historic  value  is  clearly 
less.  It  is  a document  of  second-hand.  The  narration 
is  riper.  The  sayings  of  Jesus  are  more  premeditated, 
more  composite.  Some  teachings  are  carried  to  excess 
and  falsified.;}:  Writing  out  of  Palestine,  and  certainly 

after  the  siege  of  Jerusalein,§  the  author  indicates 
places  with  less  precision  than  the  two  other  synoptics  ; 
he  has  a wrong  idea  of  the  temple  which  he  imagines 
to  be  an  oratory,  whither  men  went  to  perform  their 
devotions  ;|  he  softens  details  endeavmring  to  reconcile 
different  accounts  he  tones  down  passages  which  had 
become  embarrassing  from  the  standpoint  of  a more 
exalted  idea  of  the  divinity  of  Jesus  he  exaggerates 
the  marvellous  ;f f commits  errors  of  chronology 

* Ch.  I and  ii  especially.  See  also  xxtii,  3 seqq.;  19,  60,  in  comparison  ?7itl 
Ifark. 

T V,  41;  VII,  34;  xv,  34.  Matthew  presents  this  peculiarity  but  once  (xxvii,46) 

; XIV,  26  The  rules  of  the  apostolate  (ch.  x)  have  an  especial  cWacter  o. 
•xaltation.  ^ xix,  41,  43-44;  xxi,  9,  20;  xxm,  29 

{II,  37;  XVIII,  10  seqq. , xxiv,  63.  ^ For  example,  iv,  16 

* III,  23.  He  omits  Matt. , xxix,  30.  ff  iv,  14;  xxii,  43,  44. 

For  example,  in  what  concerns  Quirinius,  Lysanias,  and  Theudas. 


36 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


he  ignores  Hebrew  entirely  ;* **  quotes  no  word  of  Jesut 
in  that  language,  and  calls  all  localities  by  their  Gi’eek 
names.  We  feel  the  compiler,  the  man  who  has  not 
seen  the  witnesses  himself,  but  who  works  upon  texts, 
and  allows  himself  to  do  great  violence  to  them  in  or 
jer  to  reconcile  them.  Luke  probably  had  before  him 
he  biographical  collection  of  Mark  and  the  Logia  of. 
Matthew.  But  he  takes  great  liberties  with  them; 
Bometimes  he  fuses  two  anecdotes  or  two  parables  into 
one;f  sometimes  he  decomposes  one  into  two.:]:  He 

interprets  documents  according  to  his  personal  under- 
standing ; he  has  not  the  absolute  impassibility  of 
Matthew  and  Mark.  We  are  able  to  say  certain  things 
in  regard  to  his  tastes  and  his  peculiar  tendencies : ho 
is  a very  precise  devotee  ;||  he  makes  it  important 
that  Jesus  performed  all  the  Jewish  rites  ;§  he  is  an 
exalted  democrat  and  Ebionite,  that  is,  thoroughly  op- 
posed to  property,  and  persuaded  that  the  day  of  the 
poor  is  at  hand  he  is  especially  fond  of  all  the  anec- 
dotes which  place  in  relief  the  conversion  of  sinners, 
the  exaltation  of  the  humble  he  often  modifies  the 
old  traditions  to  give  them  this  turn.f  f He  admits  into 
his  first  pages  legends  in  regard  to  the  infancy  of  Je- 
sus, told  with  these  long  amplifications,  those  canticles, 
those  conventional  methods  which  form  the  essential 
character  of  the  p oocryphal  gospels.  Finally,  there 
are  in  the  account  o * the  last  days  of  Jesus  some  cir 

* Comp.  Luke  i,  31,  with  Matt. , i,  21.  f For  example,  xix,  12-27. 

I Thus,  the  supper  at  Bethany  furnishes  him  with  two  stories  (vii,  3(>-48j 
,38-42.  II  XXIII;  56. 

^ II,  21, 22, 39, 41, 42.  It  is  an  Ebionite  peculiarity.  Cf.  Philosophumena,  V II,  vi,  34. 
\\  The  parable  of  Dives  and  Lazarus.  Comp  vi,20seg[q.;  24seqq.;  xii,  II 
seqq.  xvi  entire;  xxii,  35.  Comp.  ii,  44  45;v,  Iseqq. 

**  The  woman  who  anointed  his  feet,  Zaccheus,  the  good  thief,  the  parable  ol 
the  Pharisee  and  the  puDiican,  the  prodigal  son. 

For  example,  Mary  of  Bethany  becomes  to  him  a repentant  courtezan. 


INTRODUCTION. 


37 


enmstances  full  of  tender  feeling  and  certain  words  of 
Jesus  of  a delicious  beauty,*  which  are  not  found  in 
the  more  authentic  narratives,  and  in  which  we  per 
ceive  the  work  of  legend.  Luke  probably  borrowed 
them  from  a more  recent  collection,  the  main  object  of 
whicli  was  to  excite  religious  feeling. 

Great  reserve  has  of  course  been  necessary  in  regard 
to  a document  of  this  kind.  It  would  have  been  as 
uncritical  to  neglect  it  as  to  employ  it  without  dis- 
crimination. Luke  had  before  him  originals  which  we 
have  not.  He  is  less  an  evangelist  than  a biographer 
of  Jesus,  a harmonist,”  after  the  manner  of  Marcion 
and  Tatian.  But  he  is  a biographer  of  the  first  cen- 
tury, a divine  artist  who,  independently  of  the  materi- 
als wliich  he  derived  from  more  ancient  sources,  pic- 
tures to  us  the  character  of  the  founder,  with  a liappi- 
ness  in  feature,  and  an  inspiration  in  the  whole,  a re- 
lief which  the  other  two  synoptics  have  not.  His  gos- 
pel has  the  greatest  charm  for  the  reader,  for  to  the  in- 
comparable be  luty  of  the  common  ground,  he  adds  a 
portion  of  art  and  composition  which  singularly  in- 
creases the  effect  of  the  portrait,  without  seriously  in- 
juring its  truth. 

Upon  the  whole,  we  may  say  that  the  synoptic  com- 
pilation has  passed  through  three  stages:  first,  the 
original  documentary  state  (Matthew’s  Xoyia,  Mark’s 
^ ?rpa;)^^£VTa), . first  collections  which  no  longer 
■^xist ; second,  the  state  of  simple  mixture,  in  which 
he  original  documents  are  amalgamated  with  r.o  effort 
at  composition,  without  disclosing  any  personal  view 


♦ Jesus  weeping  over  Jerusalem,  the  bloody  sweat,  the  ineeting  of  the  holj 
women,  the  good  thief,  etc.  The  saying  to  the  women  of  Jerusalem  (xxiii,  29 
E9)  could  hardly  have  been  originated  until  after  the  siege  in  the  year  70. 


38 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


on  the  part  of  the  authors  (the  present  gospels  of  Mat 
thew  and  Mark) ; tliird,  the  state  of  combination  or  oi 
intended  and  premeditated  digestion,  in  which  we  per- 
ceive the  effort  to  reconcile  the  different  versions 
(Luke’s  gospel).  The  gospel  of  John,  as  we  have  said, 
IS  a composition  of  a different  order,  and  entirely  pe 
culiar. 

It  will  be  remarked  that  I have  made  no  use  of  the 
apocryphal  gospels.  These  compositions  can  in  no 
wise  be  put  upon  the  same  footing  as  the  canonical 
gospels.  They  are  flat  and  puerile  amplifications, 
based  upon  the  canonical  gospels,  and  adding  to  them 
nothing  of  value.  On  the  contrary,  I have  been  very 
careful  to  collect  the  fragments  preserved  by  the  Fa- 
thers of  the  Church  of  ancient  gospels  which  once  ex- 
isted along  with  the  canonical  and  which  are  now  lost, 
such  as  the  Gospel  according  to  the  Hebrews,  the  Gos- 
pel according  to  the  Egyptians,  and  the  Gospels  called 
those  of  Justin,  Marcion  and  Tatian.  The  two  first 
are  especially  important  in  that  they  were  written  in 
Aramaean  like  the  Logia  of  Matthew,  that  they  appear 
to  constitute  a variety  of  the  gospel  of  that  apostle, 
and  that  they  were  the  gospel  of  the  Ebionirn,  that  is, 
of  those  little  Christian  communities  of  Batanea  who 
kept  up  the  use  of  the  Syro-chaldaic,  and  who  appear 
in  some  respects  to  have  continued  the  line  of  Jesus. 
But  it  must  be  confessed,  that  in  the  state  in  which 
!hey  have  reached  us,  these  gospels  are  inferior,  for 
critical  authority,  to  the  form  of  Matthew’s  gospel 
which  we  possess 

The  historic  value  which  I attribute  to  the  gospels 
is  now,  I think,  quite  understood.  They  are  neithei 
biographies,  after  the  manner  of  Suetonius,  nor  ficti 


INTRODUCTION. 


39 


tious  legends  like  those  of  Philostiatus ; they  are  Ie« 
gendary  biographies.  I would  compare  them  with  tjie 
legends  of  tlie  Saints,  the  Lives  of  Plotinus,  Proclue,  Isi 
dorus,  and  other  works  of  the  same  kind,  in  which  his 
♦oric  truth  and  the  intention  of  presenting  models  (tf 
virtue  are  combined  in  different  degrees.  Inaccma 
cy,  which  is  one  of  the  peculiarities  of  all  populai 
compositions,  is  especially  perceptible  in  them.  Sup- 
pose that  ten  or  twelve  years  ago,  three  or  four  old 
soldiers  of  the  empire  had  each  sat  down  to  write  the 
life  of  Napoleon  from  memory.  It  is  clear  that  their 
relations  would  present  numerous  errors  and  great  dis- 
crepancies. One  of  them  would  put  Wagram  before 
Marengo  ; another  would  write  without  hesitation  that 
Napoleon  drove  the  government  of  Robespierre  from 
the  Tuileries ; a third  would  omit  expeditions  of  the 
highest  importance.  But  one  thing  would  certainly 
be  realized  with  a good  degree  of  truth  from  these  art- 
less relations, — the  character  of  the  hero,  the  impres- 
sion which  he  made  upon  those  about  him.  In  this 
view,  such  popular  histories  arc  better  than  formal, 
authoritative  history.  The  same  thing  may  be  said 
of  the  gospels.  Intent  solely  on  setting  prominently 
forth  the  excellence  of  the  Master,  his  miracles  and  his 
teachings,  the  evangelists  exhibit  complete  indiffer- 
ence to  everything  which  is  not  the  very  spirit  of  Je- 
sus. Contradictions  as  to  times,  places,  persons  were 
regarded  as  insignificant ; for,  the  higher  the  degree 
of  inspiration  attributed  to  the  words  of  Jesus,  the  far 
ther  they  were  from  according  this  inspiration  to  the 
narrators.  These  were  looked  upon  simply  as  scribes^ 
and  had  but  one  rule  : to  omit  nothing  that  they  knew.^ 


* See  the  passage  of  Fapias  hitherto  cited  < 


40 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


It  cannot  be  contradicted  that  to  some  extent  pre 
conceived  ideas  must  have  mingled  with  these  memo* 
lies.  Several  stories,  of  Luke  especially,  were  devised 
ill  order  to  bring  out  vividly  certain  traits  of  the  phy 
fiiugnomy  of  Jesus.  This  physiognomy  itself  suffered 
changes  every  day.  Jesus  would  be  a phenomenon 
unique  in  history,  if,  with  the  part  whicli  he  enacted, 
he  had  not  been  early  transfigured.  The  legend  of 
Alexander  was  complete  before  the  generation  of  his 
companions  in  arms  was  extinct;  that  of  St.  Francis 
d’ Assisi  commenced  while  he  was  yet  alive.  A rapid 
work  of  metamorphosis  was  going  on  also,  during  the 
twenty  or  thirty  years  whicli  followed  the  death  of  Je- 
sus, and  imposed  upon  his  biogi’aphy  the  absolute 
traits  of  an  ideal  legend.  Death  adds  perfection  to 
the  most  perfect  man  ; it  renders  him  faultless  to 
those  who  have  loved  him.  At  the  same  time,  more- 
over, that  they  wished  to  paint  the  Master,  they  wish- 
ed to  demonstrate  him.  Many  anecdotes  were  con- 
(^eived  to  prove  that  in  him  tne  prophecies  considered 
as  Messianic  had  been  accomplished.  But  this  pro- 
cess, the  importance  of  which  must  not  be  denied,  can- 
not explain  all.  FTo  Jewish  work  of  the  time  gives  a 
series  of  prophecies  precisely  set  forth  which  the  Mes- 
siah was  to  accomplish.  Many  of  the  Messianic  allu- 
sions seized  upon  by  the  evangelists  are  so  subtle,  sc 
listorted,  that  we  can  believe  only  that  all  that  cor 
esponds  to  a doctrine  generally  admitted.  Sometimes 
•he  reasoning  was  thus  : ^^The  Messiah  was  to  do  a cei> 
tain  thing  : now  Jesus  is  the  Messiah;  therefore  Je^ 
us  has  done  a certain  thing.”  Sometimes  it  was  the 
converse  : “ A certain  thing  happened  to  Jesus  ; now 
Jesus  is  the  Messiah  ; therefore  a certain  thing  was  to 


INTRODUCTION. 


41 


happen  to  the  Messiah.*  Too  simple  explanations  are 
always  false  in  an  analysis  of  the  tissue  of  these  ipro 
found  creations  of  popular  sentiment,  which  defy  all 
systems  by  their  richness  and  their  infinite  variety^ 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  with  s:.ch  docu- 
nents,  in  order  to  ^ive  only  what  is  incontestable,  we 
must  limit  ourselves  to  general  lines.  In  nearly  all 
ancient  ’ histories,  even  in  those  which  are  much  less 
legendary  than  these,  the  details  leave  room  for  infi- 
nite doubt.  When  we  have  two  accounts  of  the  same 
act,  it  is  extremely  rare  that  the  two  accounts  agree. 
Is  not  this  a reason,  when  we  have  but  one,  for  imag- 
ining many  perplexities  ? We  may  say  that  among 
the  anecdotes,  the  speeches,  the  celebrated  sayings  re- 
ported by  the  historians,  not  one  is  rigorously  authen- 
tic. Were  there  stenographers  to  fix  these  fieeting 
words  ? Was  there  an  annalist  always  present  to  note 
the  gestures,  the  manner,  the  feelings  of  the  actor  ? 
Endeavor  to  arrive  at  the  truth  in  regard  to  the  man- 
ner in  which  this  or  that  cotemporaneous  event  hap 
pened  ; you  will  not  succeed.  Two  accounts  of  the 
same  occurrence  given  by  eye-witnesses  differ  essen- 
tially. Must  we  therefore  renounce  all  the  coloring 
of  narratives,  and  confine  ourselves  to  the  general 
enunciation  of  facts  ? This  would  be  to  suppress  his- 
tory. Indeed,  I do  believe  that,  if  we  except  certaiy 
short,  almost  mnemonic  axioms,  none  of  the  discourses 
1‘eported  by  Matthew  are'  literal ; our  stenographed 
trials  scarcely  are.  I willingly  admit  that  this  admi- 
rable relation  of  the  Passion  contains  a multitude  of 
Approximations.  Should  we,  however,  write  the  life 
of  Jesus,  omitting  these  teachings  whic.i  repi  eeent  to 


♦ See,  for  example,  John,  xix,  23, 24. 


42 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


as  so  vividly  tlie  physiognomy  of  his  discourses,  and 
confine  ourselves  to  saying  with  Josephus  and  Tacitus 
‘‘  tliat  he  was  put  to  death  by  the  order  of  Pilate  at  the 
instigation  of  the  priests  That  would  be,  in  my 
opinion,  a species  of  inaccuracy  worse  than  that  to 
which  we  are  exposed  by  admitting  the  details  which 
the  texts  furnish  us.  These  details  are  not  true  to  the 
letter;  but  they  are  true  with  a superior  truth  ; they 
are  truer  than  the  naked  truth,  in  this  sense,  that  they 
are  truth  rendered  expressive  and  eloquent,  raised  to 
the  higlit  of  an  idea. 

I beg  those  persons  who  may  think  ] have  accorded 
too  great  confidence  to  stories  in  great  part  legendary, 
to  remember  the  observation  which  I have  just  made. 
To  what  would  the  life  of  Alexander  be  reduced,  were 
we  to  confine  ourselves  to  that  which  is  absolutely 
certain  ? Even  the  traditions  that  ai’e  in  part  erro- 
neous, contain  a portion  of  truth  which  history  cannot 
neglect.  M.  Sprenger  has  not  been  blamed  for  mak- 
ing, in  writing  the  life  of  Mahomet,  great  account  of 
the  hadith  or  oral  traditions  in  regard  to  the  prophet, 
or  for  often  attributing  literally  to  his  hero  sayings 
known  only  from  this  source.  The  traditions  in  regard 
to  Mahomet,  however,  have  no  historical  chai  acter  su- 
perior to  that  of  the  discourses  and  narratives  which 
compose  the  gospels.  They  were  written  between  th 
year  50  and  140  of  the  hegira.  In  writing  the  histo 
rj'  of  the  Jewish  schools  during  the  centuries  whicl 
immediately  preceded  and  followed  the  birth  of  chris 
tianity,  we  should  have  no  scruples  about  attributing 
to  Hillel,  Schammai  and  Gamaliel  the  maxims  which 
are  assigned  to  them  by  the  Mischna  and  the  Oemara, 


INTRODUCTION. 


43 


although  these  great  coi/ipilations  were  put  into  forui 
several  hundred  years  after  the  doctors  in  question. 

As  to  those  who  believe,  on  tlie  contrary,  that  his 
tory  should  be  written  by  reproducing  without  inter- 
pretation the  documents  tliat  have  come  down  to  us, 
beg  them  to  observe  that  in  such  a subject  that  is  no 
permissible.  The  four  principal  documents  are  in  fla- 
grant contradiction  one  with  another;  Josephus,  more- 
over, sometimes  corrects  them.  We  must  make  a 
choice.  To  assert  that  an  event  could  not  have  hap- 
pened in  two  ways  at  once,  nor  in  an  impossible  way, 
is  not  to  impose  upon  history  an  a priori  philosophy. 
Wlien  we  possess  several  different  versions  of  a single 
act,  when  credulity  has  mingled  fabulous  circumstan- 
ces with  all  these  versions,  the  historian  should  not 
conclude  that  the  act  is  unreal ; but  he  should  in  such 
cases  be  upon  his  guard,  compare  the  texts  and  pro- 
ceed by  induction.  There  is  in  particular  one  class  of 
relations  to  which  this  principle  must  necessarily  be 
aj^plied, — supernatural  relations.  To  seek  to  explain 
these  relations  or  to  reduce  them  to  legends,  is  not  to 
mutilate  the  facts  in  the  name  of  theory  ; it  is  to  base 
ourselves  upon  the  observation  of  facts,  htone  of  the 
miracles  with  wdiich  ancient  histories  are  filled,  occur- 
red under  scientific  contoions.  Observation  never 
once  contradicted,  teaches  us  that  miracles  occur  only 
in  periods  and  countries  in  which  they  are  believed  ia 
and  before  persons  disposed  to  believe  in  them.  No 
miracle  was  ever  performed  before  an  assembly  of  men 
capable  of  establishing  the  miraculous  character  of  an 
act.  Neither  men  of  the  people  nor  men  of  the  world 
are  competent  for  that.  Great  precautions  and  a long 
habit  of  scientific  research  are  requisite  In  our  dayg 


44 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


have  we  not  seen  nearly  all  men  the  dupes  of  grosi 
prestiges  or  puerile  illusions  ? Marvellous  acts  attested 
by  every  inhabitant  of  small  towns  have  become,  m> 
der  a more  severe  scrutiny,  acts  of  felony,*  If  it  is 
certain  that  no  cotemporaneous  miracle  bears  exam- 
ination, is  it  not  probable  that  the  miracles  of  the 
past,  all  of  which  were  performed  in  popular  assem- 
blages, would  also  present  to  us,  were  it  possible  for  ns 
to  criticise  them  in  detail,  their  share  of  illusion? 

It  is  not  therefore  in  the  name  of  this  or  that  phi- 
losophy, but  in  the  name  of  constant  experience,  that 
we  Vanish  miracle  from  history.  We  do  not  say  “ Mi- 
racle is  impossible  we  say  : there  has  been  hither 

to  no  miracle  proved.”  Let  a thaumaturgist  present 
himself  to-morrow  with  testimony  sufficiently  import- 
ant to  merit  our  attention  ; let  him  announce  that  he 
is  able,  I will  suppose,  to  raise  the  dead ; what  would 
be  done  ? A commission  composed  of  physiologists, 
physicians,  chemists,  persons  experienced  in  historical 
criticism,  would  be  appointed.  This  commission  would 
choose  the  corpse,  make  certain  that  death  was  real, 
designate  the  hall  in  which  the  experiment  should  be 
made,  and  regulate  the  whole  system  of  precautions 
necessary  to  leave  no  room  for  doubt.  If,  under  such 
conditions,  the  resurrection  should  be  performed,  a 
probability  almost  equal  to  certainty  would  be  attain- 
ed- However,  as  an  experiment  ought  always  to  be 
capable  of  being  repeated,  as  one  ought  to  be  capable 
of  doing  again  what  one  has  done  once,  and  as  in  the 
matter  of  miracles  there  can  be  no  question  of  easy  or 
difficult,  the  thaumaturgist  would  be  invited  to  repro- 
duce his  marvellous  act  under  other  circumstances 


♦ See  the  Gazette  des  Tribunaux,  10  sept,  et  11  nov.  1851.  28  mai  1857- 


INTRODCrCTlON. 


45 


upon  other  bodies,  in  another  medium.  If  tl  e miracle 
succeeds  each  time,  two  things  would  be  proven  : first, 
that  supernatural  acts  do  come  to  pass  in  the  world ; 
second,  that  the  power  to  perform  them  belongs  or  is 
delegated  to  certain  persons.  Bjit  who  does  not  sea 
that  no  miracle  was  ever  performed  under  such  condi- 
tions ; that  always  hitherto  the  thaumaturgist  has  cho 
sen  the  subject  of  the  experiment,  chosen  the  means, 
chosen  the  public;  that,  moreover,  it  is,  in  most  cases, 
the  people  themselves  who  from  the  undeniable  need 
which  they  feel  of  seeing  in  great  events  and  great 
men  something  divine,  create  the  marvellous  legends 
afterv^rds.  Till  we  have  new  light,  we  shall  main- 
tain, therefore,  this  principle  of  historical  criticism, 
that  a supernatural  relation  cannot  be  accepted  as 
such^  that  it  always  implies  credulity  or  imposture, 
that  the  duty  of  the  historian  is  to  interpret  it,  and  to 
seek  what  portion  of  truth  and  what  portion  of  error 
it  may  contain. 

Such  are  the  rules  which  have  been  followed  in  the 
composition  of  this  life.  To  the  reading  of  the  texts  I 
have  been  able  to  add  a fresh  source  of  light,  an  ex- 
amination of  the  places  in  which  the  events  occurred. 
The  scientific  commission  for  the  exploration  of  an- 
cient Phoenicia,  of  which  I was  the  director  in  1860 
and  1861,*  led  me  to  reside  on  the  frontiers  of  Galilee 
and  to  traverse  it  frequently.  I have  travelled  through 
the  evangelical  province  in  every  direction  ; I have 
f isited  Jerusalem,  Hebron,  and  Samaria  ; scarcely  any 
locality  important  in  the  history  of  Jesus  has  escaped 
tne.  All  this  history  which,  at  a distance,  seems  fioat- 
ing  in  the  clouds  of  an  unreal  world,  thus  assumed  a 


^ The  book  contamii^  the  results  of  this  mission  is  in  jress. 


46 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITf. 


body,  a solidity  which  astonished  me.  The  striking 
accord  of  the  texts  and  the  places,  the  wonderful  har^ 
mony  of  the  evangelical  ideal  with  the  landscape 
which  served  as  its  setting,  were  to  me  as  a revela- 
tion. I had  before  my  eyes  a fifth  gospel,  torn  bu 
till  legible,  and  thenceforth,  through  the  narratives  Oi 
Matthew  and  Mark,  instead  of  an  abstract  being, 
which  one  would  say  had  never  existed,  I saw  a won- 
derful human  form  live  and  move.  During  the  sum- 
mer, having  been  compelled  to  go  up  to  Ghazir  in 
Mount  Lebanon  to  take  a little  rest,  I fixed  with  rapid 
strokes  the  image  which  had  appeared  to  me,  and  the 
result  was  this  book.  When  a cruel  fate  intervened 
to  hasten  my  departure,  I had  but  few  pages  left  to 
write.  The  book  has  been,  in  this  way,  composed  en- 
tirely near  the  very  place  where  Jesus  was  born  and 
developed.  Since  my  return,  I have  labored  inces- 
santly to  verify  and  to  test  in  detail  the  sketch  which 
I had  written  in  haste  in  a Maronite  hut  with  five  or 
six  volumes  about  me. 

Many  will,  perhaps,  regret  the  biographical  form 
which  has  thus  been  given  to  my  work.  When  I for 
the  first  time  conceived  a history  of  Christianity,  what 
I wished  to  write  was  in  fact  a history  of  doctrines,  in 
which  men  would  have  had  scarcely  any  part.  Jesua 
would  hardly  have  been  named;  I should  have  en^ 
'eavored,  above  all,  to  show  how  the  ideas  which  were 
reduced  under  his  name,  germinated  and  spread  over 
the  world.  But  I have  learned  sinee,  -thnJi  history  la 
not  a mere  play  of  abstractions,  that  in  it  men  are 
more  than  doctrines.  It  was  not  a certain  theory  in 
regard  to  justification  and  redemption  which  produced 
the  Reformation  ; it  was  Luther,  it  was  Calvin.  Par 


mTRODUCTION. 


47 


geeiem,  Hellenism,  Judaism,  might  ha7e  combined  in 
all  forms  ; the  doctrines  of  the  resurrection  and  the 
Word  might  have  been  developed  for  centuries  with- 
out producing  this  fecund,  unique,  sublime  fact,  tvhich 
Is  called  Christianity.  This  fact  is  the  work  of  Jesus, 
of  St.  Paul,  of  St.  John.  To  write  the  history  of  Je 
BUS,  St.  Paul  and  St.  John,  is  to  write  the  history  of 
the  origins  ofChristianity.  The  previous  movements 
belong  to  our  subject  only  in  so  far  as  they  serve  to 
throw  liglir.  upon  these  extraordinary  men,  who  must 
of  course  have  had  some  relation  with  what  pre- 
ceded them.  In  such  an  effort  to  revivify  the  lofty 
souls  of  the  past,  we  must  be  permitted  to  some  extent 
to  divine  and  conjecture.  A great  life  is  an  organic 
whole  which  cannot  be  represented  by  the  simple  ag- 
glomeration of  little  facts.  A deep  feeling  must  em- 
brace the  whole  and  form  its  unity.  The  method  of 
art  in  such  a subject  is  a good  guide  ; the  exauisito 
tact  of  a Goethe  would  here  find  full  scope.  The  eS' 
sential  conditions  of  art  creations  is  to  form  a living 
system  every  portion  of  which  answers  and  demands 
every  other.  In  histories  of  this  kind  the  great  sign 
that  we  have  attained  the  truth,  is  success  in  combin- 
ing the  texts  so  as  to  constitute  a logical,  probable, 
concordant  narrative.  The  intimate  laws  of  life,  off  the 
advance  of  organic  products,  and  of  the  toning  down 
of  shades,  must  be  consulted  at  every  step  ; for  wha 
we  liave  heie  to  find,  is  not  the  material  circumstance 
Impossible  to  verify,  but  the  very  soul  of  the  history 
what  we  have  to  seek  is  not  the  petty  certainty  of  the 
minutiae,  but  the  justness  of  the  general  idea,  the  truth 
of  the  coloring.  Each  touch  which  violates  the  rules 
of  classic  narration,  should  warn  us  to  beware;  for  the 


48 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


fact  which  we  have  to  narrate  was  living,  natural  am 
harmonious.  If  we  do  not  succeed  in  rendering  it  such 
in  our  narration,  surely  it  is  because  we  have  not  ab 
tained  to  the  right  view  of  it.  Suppose  that  in  restor- 
ng  the  Minerva  of  Phidias  according  to  the  texts,  a 
unnatural,  masimed,  artificial  whole  should  be  produ 
ced ; what  must  we  conclude  therefrom  ? But  one 
thing : that  the  texts  demand  artistic  interpretation, 
that  they  must  be  gently  entreated  until  they  finally 
combine  to  produce  a wdiole  in  which  all  the  materials 
are  happily  fused.  Should  we  be  sure  of  having  then, 
feature  for  feature,  the  Greek  statue  ? No  ; but  at 
least  we  would  not  have  a caricature ; we  would  have 
the  general  spirit  of  the  work,  one  of  the  forms  in 
which  it  might  have  existed. 

This  idea  of  a living  organism  we  have  not  hesitated 
to  take  as  a guide  in  the  general  structure  of  the  nar- 
rative. The  reading  of  the  gospels  is  enough  to  show 
that  their  authors,  though  tliey  had  In  their  minds  a 
very  just  plan  of  the  life  of  Jesus,  were  not  guided  by 
very  rigorous  chronological  data;  Papi as,  moreover, 
tells  us  so  expressly.*  The  expressions  : In  those 

days after  that then  — — and  it  came  to 

pass  that  etc.,  a?3  simple  transitions  designed 

to  connect  the  different  stories.  To  leave  all  the  ma- 
terials furnished  us  by  the  Evangelists  in  the  disorder 
in  which  tradition  gives  them,  would  no  more  be  to 
^'rite  the  history  of  Jesus,  than  one  would  write  the 
history  of  a celebrated  man  by  giving  promiscuously 
the  letters  and  anecdotes  of  his  youth,  his  old  age,  am 
his  prime.  The  Koran,  which  also  presents  to  us  in 
the  most  complete  confusion  the  fragments  of  the  dif 


*Lqc.  cU, 


INTRODUCTION. 


49 


ferent  periods  of  the  life  of  Mahomet,  has  yielded  its 
secret  to  an  ingenious  criticism  ; the  chronological  order 
in  which  these  fragments  were  composed,  has  been 
discovered  with  approximate  certainty.  Such  a read 
iustinent  is  much  more  difficult  for  the  gospel,  the 
public  life  of  Jesus  having  been  shorter  and  Jess 
crowded  with  events  than  the  life  of  the  founder  of 
Islam.  However,  the  attempt  to  find  a clue  by  which 
to  guide  our  steps  in  this  labyrinth,  cannot  be  taxed 
with  gratuitous  subtlety.  It  is  no  great  abuse  of  hy- 
potheses to  suppose  that  a religious  founder  begins  by 
adopting  the  moral  aphorisms  which  are  already  in  cir- 
culation in  his  time,  and  the  practices  which  are  most 
prevalent;  that,  wdien  more  mature,  and  in  possession 
of  his  full  powers,  he  takes  pleasure  in  a species  of 
calm,  poetic  eloquence,  far  removed  from  all  contro- 
versy, suave  and  free  as  pure  sentiment ; that  he 
gradually  becomes  exalted,  excited  by  opposition,  and 
ends  in  polemics,  and  strong  invective.  Such  are  the 
periods  which  have  been  distinguished  in  the  Koran. 
The  order  adopted  with  an  exquisite  tact  by  the  syn- 
optics, supposes  an  analogous  progress.  Read  Mat- 
thew attentively,  and  there  will  be  found  in  the  dis- 
tribution of  the  discourses,  a gradation  strongly  anal 
ogous  to  that  which  w^e  have  just  indicated.  There 
will  be  observed, moreover,  the  difference  in  forms  of 
expression  of  which  we  raai^e  use  when  we  attempt  t<> 
explain  the  progress  of  the  ideas  of  Jesus.  The  readei 
may,  if  he  prefers,  see  in  the  divisions  adopted  in  this 
regard,  only  the  sections  indispensable  to  the  method- 
ical exposition  of  a profound  and  complex  mind. 

If  the  love  of  a subject  may  assist  in  its  comprehen- 
sion, it  will  also  be  recognized,  I hope,  that  this  coiidi- 

3* 


60 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


tion  has  not  been  wanting.  To  write  the  history  of  a 
religion,  it  is  necessary,  first,  to  have  believed  it  (with- 
out that,  we  could  not  understand  by  what  it  has 
charmed  and  satisfied  the  human  conscience) ; in  the 
second  place,  to  believe  it  no  longer  implicitly  ; for 
implicit  faith  is  incompatible  with  sincere  history. 
But  loves  goes  without  faith.  Because  we  do  not  at- 
tach ourselves  to  any  of  the  forms  which  captivate 
human  adoration,  we  do  not  renounce  the  enjoyment 
of  all  that  is  good  and  beautiful  in  them.  No  passing 
vision  exhausts  divinity;  God  was  revealed  before  Je 
BUS,  God  will  be  revealed  after  him.  Widely  unequal 
and  so  much  the  more  divine,  as  they  are  the  greater 
and  the  more*  spontaneous,  the  manifestations  of  the 
God  concealed  in  the  depths  of  the  human  conscience 
are  all  of  the  same  order,  Jesus  cannot  therefore,  be- 
long exclusively  to  those  who  call  themselves  his  dis- 
ciples. He  is  the  common  honor  of  all  who  bear  a 
human  heart.  His  glory  consists,  not  in  being  ban- 
ished from  history  ; we  render  him  a truer  worship  by 
showing  that  all  history  is  incomprehensible  witlioat 
him. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS 


CHAPTER  I. 

PLACE  OF  JESUfi  IN  THE  WOBLD*S  HI8TOBT. 

The  capital  event  of  the  history  of  the  world  is  the 
revolution  by  which  the  noblest  portions  of  humanity 
passed  from  the  ancient  religions,  comprised  under  the 
?ague  name  of  paganism,  to  a religion  founded  upon 
the  divine  unity,  the  trinity,  the  incarnation  of  the 
Bon  of  God.  This  conversion  required  nearly  a thou- 
sand years  for  its  accomplishment.  The  new  religion 
occupied  at  least  three  hundred  years  in  its  formation 
alone.  But  the  origin  of  the  revolution  with  which 
we  have  to  do,  is  an  event  which  occurred  during  the 
reigns  of  Augustus  and  Tiberius.  Then  lived  a su- 
perior person  who  by  his  bold  initiative,  and  by  the 
^ove  which  he  inspired,  created  the  object  and  fixed 
the  starting-point  of  the  future  faith  of  humanity. 

Man,  when  first  he  distinguished  himself  frora  the 
animal  was  religious,  that  is  to  say  he  saw,  in  nature,, 
something  beyond  reality,  and,  for  himself,  something 
beyond  death.  This  feeling,  for  thousands  of  years, 


62 


ORiaiNS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


wandered  about  in  the  strangest  way.  With 
races,  it  never  went  beyond  a belief  in  sorcerers  in  the 
crude  form  in  which  we  still  find  it  in  certain  parts  of 
Oceanica.  With  some,  the  religious  sentiment  culrni- 
rial  jd  in  the  shameful  scenes  of  butchery  which  char- 
acterize the  ancient  religion  of  Mexico.  With  others 
especially  in  Africa,  it  reached  pure  fetishism,  that  is 
the  adoration  of  a material  object,  to  which  were  at- 
tributed supernatural  powers.  As  the  instinct  of  love, 
which  at  times  raises  the  commonest  man  above  him- 
self, sometimes  changes  into  brutality  and  ferocity,  so 
this  divine  faculty  of  religion  long  seemed  a cancer 
which  must  be  extirpated  from  the  Imimiri  race,  a 
cause  of  errors  and  of  crimes  which  the  wise  must  en- 
deavor to  suppress. 

The  brilliant  civilizations  which  w^ere  developed  in 
a very  remote  antiquity  by  China,  by  Babylonia  and 
Egypt,  caused  religion  to  take  certain  steps  in  advance. 
China  attained  at  a very  early  date  a species  of  sensible 
mediocrity,  which  forbade  any  great  disorders.  It 
knew  neither  the  advantages  nor  the  abuses  of  the 
genius  of  religion.  At  all  events,  it  had  in  this  re- 
spect no  influence  over  the  direction  of  the  great  cur- 
rent of  humanity.  The  religions  of  Babylonia  and 
Syria  never  extricated  themselves  from  a basis  of 
amazing  sensuality;  these  religions  continued,  until 
Iheir  extinction  in  the  fourth  and  fifth  centuries  of  our 
era,  schools  of  immorality,  in  which  w^ere  sometimes 
oj  ened,  by  a sort  of  poetic  intuition,  penetrating  vistas 
of  the  divine  world.  Egypt,  beneath  a species  of  ap- 
parent fetishism,  had  at  an  early  day  metaphysical 
dogmas  and  a lofty  symbolism.  But  undoubtedly 
these  interpretations  of  a reflned  theology  were  not 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


b3 


primitive.  Never  has  mnn,  in  possession  of  a cleai 
idea,  amused  himself  by  clothing  it  in  symbols  ; gen- 
erally it  is  after  long  reflection,  and  because  it  is  im 
possible  for  the  human  mind  to  resign  itself  to  the  ab- 
surd, that  ideas  are  sou'ght  beneath  the  old  mystic  ra* 
ages,  the  meaning  of  wiiich  has  been  lost.  It  is  not 
from  Egypt,  moreover,  that  the  faith  of  humanity  ha« 
come.  The  elements  which,  in  the  religion  of  a Chris 
tian,  come,  through  a thousand  transformations,  from 
Egypt  and  Syria,  are  external  forms  without  much 
consequence,  or  scoria  such  as  the  most  refined  wor- 
ships always  retain.  The  great  faults  of  the  religions 
of  which  we  are  speaking,  was  their  essentially  super- 
stitious character;  what  they  scattered  over  the  world 
was  millions  of  amulets  and  abracadabras.  No  grand 
moral  thought  could  originate  among  races  debased 
by  centuries  of  despotism,  and  accustomed  to  institu- 
tions which  prohibited  almost  every  exercise  of  indi- 
vidual liberty. 

The  poetry  of  the  soul,  faith,  liberty,  honor,  devo- 
tion, appeared  in  the  world  with  the  two  great  races 
which,  in  one  sense,  have  formed  humanity,  I mean 
the  Indo-European  race  and  the  Semitic  race.  The 
first  intuitions  of  the  Indo-European  race  were  essen- 
tially naturalistic.  But  it  was  a deep,  moral  natural- 
ism, a loving  embrace  of  nature  by  man,  a delicious 
poetry,  full  of  the  feeling  of  the  infinite,  the  principle 
in  short  of  all  that  German  and  Celtic  genius,  of  what 
a Shakespeare,  of  what  a Goethe  was  afterwards  to  ex- 
press. It  was  neither  premeditated  religion  nor  mo« 
rality;  it  was  melancholy,  tenderness,  imagination;  it 
was  above  all  entirely  serious,  the  essential  condition 
of  morality  and  religion.  The  faith  of  humanity,  liow 


64 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


ever,  conld  not  come  from  it,  because  these  o.d  wcr 
ifcips  had  great  diflBculty  in  detaching  themselves  frora 
polytheism,  and  did  not  attain  to  a very  clear  symboL 
Brahmiiiism  has  lived  to  our  days  only  by  the  ast:n 
ishing  privilege  of  conservation  which  India  seems  t<j 
possess.  Buddhism  failed  in  all  its  attempts  toward 
the  west.  Druidism  remained  a form  exclusively  na- 
tional and  without  universal  range.  The  Greek  at- 
tempts at  reform,  Orphism,  the  Mysteries,  did  not  suffice 
to  give  solid  aliment  to  souls.  Persia  alone  succeeded 
in  forming  a dogmatic  religion,  almost  monotheistic, 
and  wisely  organized;  but  it  is  very  possible  that  even 
this  organization  was  imitated  or  borrowed.  At  all 
events,  Persia  did  not  convert  the  world;  she  was 
converted,  on  the  contrary,  when  she  saw  rising  upon 
her  frontiers  the  banner  of  divine  unity  proclaimed 
by  Islam. 

To  the  Semitic*  race  belongs  the  glory  of  having 
produced  the  religion  of  humanity.  Far  beyond  the 
confines  of  history,  under  his  tent,  remaining  pure 
from  the  disorders  of  a world  already  corrupt,  the  Be* 
douin  patriarch  prepared  the  faith  of  the  world. 
Strong  antipathy  to  the  voluptuous  worships  of  Syria, 
great  symplicity  of  ritual,  complete  absence  of  tem- 
ples, the  idol  reduced  to  insignificant  theraphim^  such 
was  his  superiority.  Among  all  the  nomadic  tribes  of 
the  Semites,  that  of  the  Beni-Israel  was  already  marke 
for  immense  destinies.  Ancient  relations  with  Egypt 
whence  resulted  perhaps  some  appropriations  purel 
material,  had  only  increased  their  repugnance  to  idol 

* This  word  simply  designates  here  those  nations  whic>  speak  or  have  spoken 
one  of  the  languages  called  Semitic.  Such  a designation  is  very  defective  ; but  i< 
is  one  of  those  words  like  “ Ootliic  architecture”  and  “ Arabic  numerals”  which 
we  must  preserve  in  order  to  be  understood,  even  after  the  error  which  they 
Imply  has  been  demonstrated. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


66 


atry,  A Law  ” or  Thora^  written  at  a very  remote 
period,  upon  metallic  tables,  and  which  they  referred 
to  their  great  liberator  Moses,  was  already  the  code  of 
monotheism,  and  contained,  compared  with  the  insti 
fu lions  of  Egypt  and  Chaldea,  mighty  germs  of  |ocia. 
equality  and  of  nmrality.  A chest,  or  portable  ark, 
with  rings  on  the  sides  through  which  to  pass  staves, 
constituted  their  entire  religious  materiel;  in  it  were 
collected  the  sacred  objects  of  the  nation,  its  relics,  its 
memories,  the  ^‘book”  in  fact,*  the  journal  of  the 
tribe  always  open,  but  in  which  they  wrote  with  great 
discretion.  The  family  entrusted  with  bearing  the 
staves  and  watching  over  these  portable  archives,  be- 
ing near  the  book  and  controlling  it,  very  soon  became 
important.  Thence,  however,  did  not  come  the  insti- 
tution which  decided  the  future ; the  Hebrew  priest 
does  not  differ  much  from  other  priests  of  antiquity. 
The  characteristic  which  distinguishes  Israel  essential 
ly  among  theocratic  nations,  is  that  its  priests  were  al* 
ways  subordinate  to  individual  inspiration.  Besides 
its  priests,  each  nomadic  tribe  had  its  ndbi  or  prophet, 
a species  of  living  oracle  which  was  consulted  for  the 
solution  of  obscure  questions  requiring  a high  degree 
of  clairvoyance.  The  nabis  of  Israel,  organized  in 
groups  or  schools,  had  great  ascendancy.  Defenders 
of  the  ancient  democratic  spirit,  enemies  of  the  rich 
opposed  to  all  political  organizations,  and  to  whateve 
would  lead  Israel  into  the  ways  of  other  nations,  they 
were  the  real  instruments  of  the  religious  pre-eminence 
of  the  Jewish  people.  They  early  announced  un- 
bounded hopes,  and  when  the  nation,  the  victim  in 
part  of  their  impolitic  coiinseDs,  had  been  crushed  by 

* 1 Sam  X 


66 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


the  Assyrian  power,  they  proclaimed  that  an  unlimited 
kingdom  was  in  reserve  for  them,  that  one  day  Jem 
Salem  would  be  the  capital  of  the  whole  world,  and 
that  the  human  race  would  become  Jewish.  Jerusa' 
lem  and  its  temple  appeared  to  them  like  a city  placed 
upon  the  summit  of  a mountain,  towaids  which  all  na- 
tions must  flow,  like  an  oracle  whence  the  law  of  the 
universe  must  emanate,  like  the  center  of  an  ideal  realm, 
in  which  the  human  race,  made  peaceful  by  Israel, 
should  taste  again  the  joys  of  Eden.* 

Unknown  accents  already  made  themselves  heard 
in  exaltation  of  the  martyr,  and  in  celebration  of  the 
power  of  the  ‘‘  man  of  sorrows.”  Concerning  one  of 
those  sublime  sufferers,  who  like  Jeremiah,  reddened 
with  their  blood  the  streets  of  Jerusalem,  an  inspired 
one  wrote  a canticle  on  the  sufi*erings  and  the  tri- 
umph of  the  ‘^Servant  of  the  Most  High,”  in  wliich  all 
the  prophetic  power  of  the  genius  of  Israel  seems  con- 
centrated.f  ‘‘He  shall  grow  up  before  him  as  a ten- 
der plant,  and  as  a root  out  of  a dry  ground : he  hath 
no  form  nor  comeliness ; and  when  we  shall  see  him, 
there  is  no  beauty  that  we  should  desire  him.  He  is 
despised  and  rejected  of  men;  a man  of  sorrows  and 
acquainted  with  grief:  and  we  hid  as  it  were  our  faces 
from  him ; he  was  despised,  and  we  esteemed  him  not. 
Surely  he  hath  borne  our  griefs,  and  carried  our  sor- 
rows : yet  we  did  esteem  him  stricken,  smitten  of  God,'" 
Bud  afflicted.  But  he  was  wounded  for  our  transgres- 
sions, he  was  bruised  for  our  iniquities ; the  chastise- 
ment of  our  peace  was  upon  him  ; and  with  his  stripes 
We  are  healed.  All  we  like  sheep  have  gone  astray  ; 

• Isaiah,  ii,  1-4,  and  especially  ch . xl  seqq  , lx  seqq.;  Micah  iv,  1 seqq.  II 
mast  be  remembered  that  the  second  portion  of  the  book  of  Isaiah,  from  ch  xi, 
ta  not  by  Isaiah.  t ^ utire. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


67 


we  have  turned  every  one  to  his  own  way;  and  the 
Lord  hath  laid  ou  him  tlie  iniquity  of  us  all.  He  waa 
oppressed,  and  he  was  afflicted,  yet  he  opened  not  hig 
rn-aith:  he  is  brought  as  a lamb  to  the  slaughter,  and 
R8  a sheep  before  her  shearers  is  dumb,  so  he  opened 
not  his  mouth.  He  was  taken  from  prison  and  from 
judgment:  and  who  shall  declare  his  generation ? foi 
be  was  cut  off  out  of  the  land  of  the  livdng:  for  the 
transgression  of  my  people  was  he  stricken.  And  he 
made  his  grave  with  the  wicked,  and  with  the  rich  in 
his  death  ; because  he  had  done  no  violence,  neither 
was  any  deceit  in  his  mouth.  Yet  it  pleased  the  Lord 
to  bruise  him ; he  hath  put  him  to  grief;  when  thou 
shalt  make  his  soul  an  offering  for  sin,  he  shall  see  his 
seed,  he  sliall  prolong  his  days,  and  the  pleasure  of  the 
Lord  shall  prosper  in  his  hand.” 

Great  changes  were  at  the  same  time  going  on  in 
the  Thora.  Hew  texts,  professing  to  present  the  true 
law  of  Moses,  like  Deuteronomy,  were  produced,  and 
inaugurated  in  reality  a spirit  very  different  from  that 
of  the  old  nomads.  An  intense  fanaticism  was  the 
dominant  trait  of  this  spirit.  Insane  believers  inces- 
santly provoked  assaults  upon  every  one  who  strayed 
from  the  worship  of  Jehovah;  a code  of  blood,  de- 
creeing the  penalty  of  death  for  religious  crimes,  waa 
successfully  established.  Piety  almost  always  leads  to 
trange  contradictions  of  vehemence  and  gentleness. 
Jliis  zeal,  unknown  to  the  crude  simplicity  of  the  time 
f the  Judges,  inspires  tones  of  moving  exhortation 
and  of  tender  unction,  which  the  world  had  never 
heard  till  then.  A strong  tendency  towards  so')ial 
questions  began  already  to  be  felt;  utopias,  droarns  of 
perfect  society  found  place  in  the  code.  A mixture  of 


68 


ORIGINS  OP  CHRISTIANITY. 


patriarchal  morality  aiid  ardent  devotion,  of  primitive 
intuitions  and  pious  refinements  like  those  which  filled 
the  soul  of  a Hezekiah,  a Josiah  and  a Jeremiah,  the 
Pentateuch  was  thus  fixed  in  the  form  in  which  we  see 
it,  and  became  for  centuries  the  absolute  rule  of  the 
national  mind. 

This  great  book  once  created,  the  history  of  the 
Jewish  people  developed  itself  in  an  irresistible  tide. 
The  great  empires  which  succeeded  one  another  in 
Western  Asia,  by  destroying  all  its  hope  of  a terres- 
trial kingdom,  threw  it  back  upon  religious  dreams 
with  a kind  of  gloomy  passion.  Little  caring  for  na- 
tional dynasty  or  political  independence,  it  accepts  all 
governments  which  leave  it  free  to  perform  its  wor- 
ship and  to  follow  its  usages.  Israel  henceforth  shall 
have  no  other  leadership  than  its  religious  enthusiasts, 
no  other  enemies  than  those  of  the  divine  unity,  no 
other  country  than  its  Law. 

And  this  Law,  it  is  important  to  remark,  was  wholly 
social  and  moral.  It  was  the  work  of  men  imbued 
with  a lofty  ideal  of  the  present  life,  and  believing 
that  they  had  found  the  best  means  of  realizing  it. 
The  universal  conviction  is  that  the  Thora^  well  ob 
served,  cannot  fail  to  give  perfect  happiness.  This 
Thora  has  nothing  in  common  with  the  Greek  or  Ro- 
man Laws,”  which,  taking  small  note  of  anything  save 
abstract  right,  enter  little  into  questions  of  happiness 
and  of  private  morality.  We  perceive  in  advance  tha 
the  results  which  are  to  fiow  from  it  will  be  of  the  so 
cial  order  and  not  of  the  political  order,  that  the  work 
upon  wdiich  this  people  is  at  labor,  is  a kingdom  of 
God,  not  a civil  republic,  a universal  institution,  not  a 
iiatioiialitj  cr  a country. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


59 


Through  many  faintings  by  the  way,  Israel  main- 
tained this  vocation  admirably.  A succession  of  pious 
men,  Esdras,  Nehemiah,  Onias,  the  Maccabees,  eaten 
up  with  the  zeal  of  the  Law,  upheld  the  defence  of  the 
ancient  institutions.  The  idea  that  Israel  is  a nation 
Df  saints,  a tribe  chosen  of  God,  and  bound  to  him  by 
a covenant,  roots  itself  more  and  more  immovably. 
An  immense  expectation  fills  every  soul.  All  Indo- 
European  antiquity  had  placed  Paradise  at  the  begin- 
ning; all  its  poets  had  wept  a golden  age  departed. 
Israel  placed  the  golden  age  in  the  future.  The  eter- 
nal poetry  of  religious  souls,  the  Psalms,  were  born  of 
this  exalted  pietism,  with  their  divine  and  melancholy 
harmony.  Israel  became  truly  and  pre-eminently  the 
people  of  God,  while  about  it  the  pagan  religions  be- 
came more  and  more  degraded,  in  Persia  and  Babylo- 
nia to  an  official  charlatanry,  in  Egypt  and  Syria  to  a 
crude  idolatry,  in  the  Greek  and  Latin  world  to  pa- 
rades. * What  the  Christian  martyrs  did  in  the  first  cen- 
turies of  our  era,  what  the  victims  of  persecuting  or- 
thodoxy did  in  the  very  bosom  of  Christianity  up  to 
our  time,  the  Jews  did  during  the  two  centuries  which 
preceded  the  Christian  era.  They  were  a living  protest 
against  superstition  and  religious  materialism.  An 
extraordinary  movement  of  ideas,  ending  in  the  most 
opposite  results,  made  them  at  this  period  the  most 
striking  and  the  most  original  nation  in  the  world 
riieir  dispersion  along  the  whole  shore  of  the  Mediter 
mnean,  and  the  use  of  the  Greek  language,  which  the} 
adopted  out  of  Palestine,  prepared  the  way  for  a pro 
paganda  of  wffiich  the  ancient  forms  of  society,  cut  up 
into  small  nationalities,  had  yet  afforded  no  example. 

To  the  time  of  the  Maccabees,  Judaism,  notw  'thstand 


60 


ORIGIKS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


ing  its  persistence  in  announcing  that  it  would  one  daj 
be  the  religion  of  tlie  human  race,  had  had  the  char- 
acter of  all  the  other  worships  of  antiquity:  it  was  a 
family  worship,  a tribe  worship.  Israelite  really 

thouglit  that  his  worship  was  the  best,  and  spoke  with 
contempt  of  foreign  gods.  But  he  believed  also  that 
the  religion  of  the  true  God  was  made  for  him  alonOi 
The  worship  of  Jehovah  was  embraced  on  entering  the 
Jewish  family  ; * that  was  all.  Ho  Israelite  dreamed 
of  converting  other  nations  to  a worship  which  wag 
the  patrimony  of  the  sons  of  Abraham.  The  develop- 
ment of  the  pietist  spirit,  after  Es.lras  and  Nehemiah, 
led  to  a conception  much  more  solid  and  more  logical. 
Judaism  became  the  true  religion  absolutely;  the 
right  to  embrace  it  was  accorded  to  all  who  desired  ;f 
soon  it  became  a pious  work  to  make  as  many  converts 
as  possible.:j;  Undoubtedly  the  delicate  feeling  which 
raised  John  the  Baptist,  Jesus,  and  St,  Paul  above  the 
mean  ideas  of  race,  did  not  yet  exist ; by  a singular 
contradiction,  these  converts  (proselytes)  found  small 
consideration,  and  were  treated  with  disdain. ||  But 
the  idea  of  an  exclusive  religion,  the  idea  that  there  is 
Boipething  in  the  world  superior  to  country,  to  blood, 
to  laws,  the  idea  which  shall  make  the  apostles  and 
the  martyrs,  was  founded.  A deep  pity  for  pagans, 
however  splendid  might  be  their  mundane  fortune,  is 
henceforth  the  feeling  of  every  Jew.§  By  a cycle 
l^f  legends,  intended  to  furnish  models  of  immova' 
ole  firmness  (Daniel  and  his  companions,  the  mother 

♦ Ruth  1, 16.  t Esther,  ix,  27. 

t Matt.  XXIII,  15;  Josephus,  Vi(a,  23;  B.  J.,  II,  xvii,  10;  VII,  iii,  3;  Ani.f 
a,  4;  Horat.,  Sat.  I,  ir,  143;  Juv.,  xiv,  96  seqq. ; Tacitus,  Ann  , II,  86;  JJisi.y  V, 
Dio  Cassius,  XXXVII,  17. 

I Mischna,  ScheUit,  x,  9;  Talmud  of  Babylon,  Niddah,  fol.  13  6,  Jebarrwthy  47  t 
Xtddmchin,  70  h;  Midrasch,  JaVeut  Ruth^  fol.  163  d. 

Apocryphal  letter  of  Baruch,  in  Fabricius,  Cod.  pseud  V T.  II,  147  seqq. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


61 


of  tbe  Maccabees  and  her  seven  sons,*  the  romance 
of  the  hippodrome  of  Alexandria), f the  guitles  of  the 
people  sought  above  all  to  inculcate  this  idea  that 
virtue  consists  in  a fanatical  attachment  to  determinate 
eligious  institutions. 

The  persecutions  of  Antiochus  Epiphanes  made  this 
idea  a passion,  almost  a frenzy.  It  was  something 
closely  analogous  to  this  which  took  place  under  Nero 
two  hundred  and  thirty  years  afterwards.  Rage  and 
despair  threw  the  faithful  into  the  world  of  visions  and 
of  dreams,  the  first  apocalypse,  the  ‘‘Book  of  Daniel,” 
appeared.  It  was  a sort  of  reproduction  of  prophet- 
ism,  but  under  a very  different  form  from  the  ancient, 
and  with  a much  broader  idea  of  the  destinies  of  the 
world.  The  Book  of  Daniel  gave  in  some  sort  their 
final  expression  to  the  Messianic  expectations.  The 
Messiah  was  no  longer  a king  after  the  manner  of  Da- 
vid and  Solomon,  a theocratic  and  Mosaic  Cyrus  ; he 
was  a “ son  of  man  ” coming  with  the  clouds  of  hea- 
ven,;j:  a supernatural  being,  clothed  in  human  appear- 
ance, commissioned  to  judge  the  world  and  to  preside 
over  the  gold^^a  age.  Perhaps  the  Sosiosch  of  Persia, 
the  great  prophet  to  come,  commissioned  to  prepare  the 
reign  of  Ormuzd,  furnished  some  features  to  this  new 
ideal. I The  unknown  author  of  the  Book  of  Daniel 
!iad,  at  all  events,  a decisive  infiuence  upon  the  relig- 
ions e ^ent  which  was  to  transform  the  world.  He 
furnished  ":he  scenic  representation,  and  the  technical 

• II  Mtccabees,  vii,  and  the  2? cifoccoixm,  attributed  to  Josephus.  Cf.  Eplstll 
lO  the  Hebrews,  XI,  33  seqq. 

illl  Maccabees  (apocr.);  Kufm.  Suppl.  ad  Jos.,  Contra  ApioTiemj  II,  5. 

VII,  13  seqq. 

Vmdidad,  xix,18,19;  Minokhired,  a passage  published  in  the  Zeitschrift  def 
JeiUschm rnorgenlandischen  Gesellschaft,  I,  263;  Boundehetch,  xxxi  The  lack  of  any 
eertain  chronology  of  the  Zend  and  Pehlvic  texts  leaves  much  doubt  fioatiof 
aver  these  comparisons  between  Je\^ish  and  Persian  beliefs. 


62 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


terms  of  the  new  Messianism,  and  tr  him  may  be  ap* 
plied  what  Jesus  said  of  John  the  Baptist:  Tha 
prophets  were  until  John ; since  that  time  the  kingdom 
of  God. 

Wq  must  not  believe,  however,  that  this  movement, 
BO  profoundly  religious  and  passionate,  had  for  its 
moving  spring  particular  dogmas,  as  has  been  the  case 
in  all  the  contests  which  have  broken  out  in  the  bosom 
of  Christianity.  The  Jew  of  this  period  was  as  little 
a theologian  as  possible.  He  did  not  speculate  on 
the  essence  of  the  divinity ; the  beliefs  in  regard  to 
angels,  the  end  of  man,  the  divine  personalities,  the 
first  germ  of  which  already  began  to  show  itself,  were 
optional  beliefs,  meditations  to  which  every  one  might 
yield  himself  according  to  the  cast  of  his  mind,  but  of 
which  a multitude  of  people  had  never  heard.  Indeed 
the  most  orthodox  remained  strangers  to  these  pecu- 
liar notions,  and  held  to  the  simplicity  of  Mosaism. 
No  dogmatic  power  analogous  to  that  which  orthodox 
Christianity  conferred  upon  the  churchy  then  existed. 
Not  until  the  third  century,  when  Christianity  fell  into 
the  hands  of  arguing  races,  insane  for  dialectics  and 
metaphysics,  did  this  fever  of  distinctions  commence, 
which  makes  the  history  of  the  Church  the  history  of 
an  endless  controversy.  There  was  disputation  also 
among  the  Jews;  zealous  schools  found  contradictory 
lolutions  for  nearly  all  agitated  questions;  but  in  these 
5Di>*^entions,  the  principal  details  of  which  the  Talmud 
aas  preserved,  there  is  not  a word  of  speculative  tho- 
ology.  To  keep  and  maintain  the  law,  because  the 
law  is  just,  and  because  when  well  kept,  it  gives  hap- 
piness, this  was  the  whole  of  J udaism.  No  credo^  no 
theoretic  symbol.  A disciple  of  the  boldest  Arabic 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


6S 


philosophy,  Moses  Mainionides,  could  become  the  ora. 
cle  of  the  synagogue,  because  he  was  a most  rigid  ob- 
server of  the  law. 

The  reigns  of  the  last  Asmoneans  and  that  ot 
Herod  saw  the  exaltation  increase  still  more.  They 
were  filled  with  an  uninterrupted  series  of  religious 
movements.  In  proportion  as  tlie  government  became 
secularized  and  passed  into  unbelieving  hands,  the 
Jewish  people  lived  less  and  less  for  earth  and 
became  more  and  more  absorbed  by  the  strange  work 
which  was  being  effected  among  them.  The  world, 
diverted  by  other  spectacles,  has  no  knowledge  of 
what  is  passing  in  this  forgotten  corner  of  the  East. 
Souls  which  keep  pace  with  their  century  are,  how 
ever,  better  informed.  The  delicate  and  clairvoyant 
Virgil  seems  to  respond,  as  by  a secret  echo,  to  the 
second  Isaiah;  the  birth  of  a c-iiild  throws  him  into 
dreams  of  universal  regeneration.*  These  dreams 
were  common  and  formed  a style  of  literature,  which 
was  covered  by  the  name  of  the  Sibyls.  The  quite  recent 
formation  of  the  Empire  exalted  the  imagination ; 
the  grand  era  of  peace  upon  which  the  world  wai 
entering,  and  that  impress  of  melancholy  sensibility 
which  souls  experience  after  long  periods  of  rev 
olution,  gave  birth  on  every  side  to  unlimited  hopes. 

In  Judea  expectation  was  at  its  height.  Holy  per- 
sons, among  whom  are  cited  an  aged  Simeon,  who 
according  to  the  legend,  held  Jesus  on  his  arms,  and 
Anna,  daughter  of  Phanuel,  who  was  considered  a 
prophetess,!  passed  their  lives  about  the  temple, 

* Eel.  IV.  The  CumcBum  carmen  (v.  4^  was  a kind  of  Sibylline  apocalypfley 
stamped  with  the  philosophy  and  history  familiar  to  the  East.  See  Servius  oil 
this  verse,  and  Carmina  SibylVma^  III,  97-817.  Cf  Tac  , Hist..,  V,  13. 

t Luke,  II,  25  seqq 


64 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIAxViTY. 


fasting  and  praying  that  it  might  please  God  not 
take  them  from  the  world  until  they  had  seen  the  ac- 
complishment of  the  hopes  of  Israel.  A mighty 
incubation  is  felt,  the  imminence  of  something  un« 
known. 

This  confused  medley  of  visions  and  dreams,  this 
alternation  of  hopes  and  deceptions,  these  aspirations 
incessantly  trampled  down  by  a hateful  reality,  at 
length  found  their  interpreter  in  the  incomparable 
man  to  whjom  the  universal  conscience  has  decreed  the 
title  of  Son  of  God,  and  that  with  justice,  since  he 
caused  religion  to  take  a step  in  advance  incompar- 
ably greater  than  any  other  in  the  past,  and  probably 
than  any  yet  to  come. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS 


65 


CHAPTER  II. 

OBILDHOOD  AND  YOUTH  OP  JESUS  — fliS  I^IBST  IS* 
PKESSIONS. 


Jesus  was  born  at  Nazareth,*  a small  town  in  Gal- 
ilee, which  before  him  had  no  celebrity.f  All  his 
life  he  was  designated  by  the  name  of  ‘‘Nazarene,”:} 
and  it  is  only  by  an  awkward  detour|  that  the  legend 
Bucceeds  in  fixing  his  birth  at  Bethlehem.  We  shall 
further  on  see§  the  motive  of  this  supposition  and 


♦ Matt,  XIII,  54  seqq. ; Mark,  vi,  1 seqq. ; John  i,  45,  46. 

|-  It  is  not  mentioned  in  the  books  of  the  Old  Testament,  or  in  Josephus  or  in 
the  Talmud. 

% Mark,  I,  24;  Luke,  xviii,  37;  John,xix,  19;  Ads,  ii,  22;  iii,  6.  Hence  the 
name  of  Nazarenes,  long  applied  to  Christians,  and  which  still  designates  them 
In  all  Mahometan  countries. 

H The  assessment  made  by  Quirinlus,  with  which  the  legend  connects  the 
journey  to  Bethlehem,  is  subsequent  by  at  least  ten  years  to  the  year  when,  ac- 
cording to  Luke  and  Matthew,  Jesus  was  born.  The  two  evangelists  indeed 
place  his  birth  under  the  reign  of  Herod  (Matt.,  ii,  1, 19,  22;  Luke,  i,  5).  Now 
the  assessment  of  Quirinius  was  not  until  after  the  deposition  of  Archelaus,  ten 
years  alter  the  death  of  Herod,  in  the  year  37  of  the  era  of  Actium  (Josephus, 
Ant.,  XVII,  xiii,  5;  XVIII,  i,  1;  ii,  1).  The  inscription  by  which  it  was  formerly 
attempted  to  show  that  Quirinius  made  two  assessments  is  now  known  to  be  a 
forgery  (see  Orelli,  Ins.  lot.,  No.  623,  and  the  supplement  of  Henzen,  same  num- 
ber; Borghesi,  Fades  consulaires  [still  unpublished] , at  the  year  742).  The  assess- 
ment in  any  event  would  be  applied  only  to  the  parts  reduced  to  Roman 
provinces  and  not  to  the  tetrarchies.  The  texts  by  which  it  is  sought  to  prove 
lhat  some  of  the  statistical  and  registrary  acts  ordered  by  Augustus  extended 
orer  the  domain  of  the  Herods,  either  do  not  imply  what  they  are  made  to  say, 
or  are  by  Christian  authors,  who  have  borrowed  this  item  from  Luke’s  gospel. 
But  what  fully  proves  that  the  journey  of  the  family  of  Jesus  to  Beth- 
lehem is  unhistorical,  is  the  reason  which  is  given  for  it.  Jesus  was  not 
of  the  family  of  David  (see  hereafter,  217),  and,  had  he  been,  still  we  cannot 
conceive  that  his  parents  would  have  been  compelled,  for  an  act  purely  regis- 
trary and  financial,  to  go  to  inscribe  their  names  at  a place  their  ancestors  had 
left  a thousand  years  before.  By  imposing  such  an  obligation  the  Roman  au 
thority  would  ha^  e sanctioned  claim-  full  of  danger  to  itself. 

^ Ch  XIV 


68 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


how  it  was  the  necessary  consequence  of  the  Messianic 
character  attributed  to  Jesus.*  Tlie  precise  date  of 
his  birth  is  unknown.  It  occurred  under  the  reign  of 
Augustus,  towards  the  year  750  of  Rome,  probably 
some  years  before  the  year  1 of  the  era  which  all  civ 
ilizec  nations  date  from  the  day  of  his  birth,  f 

The  name  of  Jesus^  which  was  given  him,  is  a vari- 
ation of  Joshua.  It  was  a very  common  name  ; but 
naturally  mysteries  were  afterwards  sought  in  it,  and 
an  allusion  to  his  Saviorship.:j:  Perhaps  he  liimeelf, 

like  all  mystics,  became  exalted  on  this  account.  More 
than  one  great  calling  in  history  has  thus  been  occa- 
sioned by  a name  casually  given  to  a child.  Ardent 
natures  are  never  willing  to  see  chance  in  anything 
that  concerns  them.  For  them  all  has  been  ordered 
by  God,  and  they  see  a sign  of  the  superior  will  in  the 
most  insignificant  circumstances. 

The  population  of  Galilee  was  diversified,  as  even 
the  name  of  the  country!  indicated.  This  province 
numbered  among  its  inhabitants  in  the  time  of  Jesus, 
many  non-Jews  (Phoenicians,  Syrians,  Arabs  and  even 
Greeks). § Conversions  to  Judaism  were  not  rare  in 
these,  mixed  countries.  It  is  impossible  therefore  to 

* Matt. , II,  1 seqq. ; Luke  ii,  1 seqq.  The  omission  of  this  story  in  Mark  and 
the  two  parallel  passages,  Matt.,  xiii,  54,  and  Mark  vi,  1,  in  which  Nazareth 
figures  as  the  “ own  country’’  of  Jesus,  prove  that  there  was  no  such  legend  in 
the  primitive  text  which  furnished  the  historical  sketch  of  the  present  gospels  ol 
Matthew  and  Mark.  It  is  in  consequence  of  oft-repeated  objections  that  the 
modifications  at  the  beginning  of  Matthew  would  have  been  added,  modificationi 
not  in  such  flagrant  contradiction  with  the  rest  of  the  text  that  it  was  thought 
necessary  to  correct  those  places  which  had  been  written  previously  from  an  en 
tirely  different  point  of  view.  Luke,  on  the  contrary  (iv,  16),  writing  with  re- 
jection, uses,  in  order  to  be  consistent,  a modified  expression.  Ajs  to  John,  hi 
knows  nothing  of  the  journey  to  Bethlehem  ; to  him,  Jesus  is  simply  “ of  Naza- 
reth” or  a “ Galilean”  on  two  occasions  when  it  would  have  been  of  the  high- 
Bst  importance  to  quote  his  birth  at  Bethlehem  (i,  45,  46;  ii,  41,  42). 

t It  is  well  known  that  the  calculation  which  serves  as  the  basis  of  the  vulgaf 
era  was  made  in  the  sixth  century  by  Dionysius  the  Little  This  calonlatiCB  it 
partly  based  on  data  which  are  purely  hypothetical. 

iMatt.,  i,  21;  Luke  i,  31. 

Gelil  Ha^goyim,  circle  of  the  Gentiles. 

Strabo,  X VI,  i , 85;  Jos  . Vita,  12. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


61 


aise  here  any  question  of  race  and  to  inquire  what 
Dlood  flowed  in  the  veins  of  him  who  has  most  CDntri- 
buted  to  eflTace  in  humanity  all  distinction  of  blood. 
He  came  from  the  ranks  of  the  people.*  Hia 
father  Joseph  and  his  mother  Mary  were  in  moderate 
circumstances,  artizans  living  by  their  toil,f  in  thia 
condition  so  common  in  the  East,  wdiich  is  neither 
ease  nor  want.  The  extreme  simplicity  of  life  in  such 
countries,  by  removing  the  demand  for  comfort,  ren- 
ders the  privilege  of  the  rich  almost  useless  and 
makes  all  voluntarily  poor.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
total  lack  of  taste  for  the  arts  and  for  what  contributes 
to  the  elegance  of  material  life,  gives  to  the  houses 
of  those  who  lack  for  nothing  an  appearance  of  pri- 
vation. With  the  exception  of  something  sordid  and 
repulsive  wdiich  Islamism  carries  with  it  every  where, 
the  town  of  Nazareth,  in  the  time  of  Jesus,  did  not, 
perhaps,  differ  much  from  what  it  is  to-day. :{:  We  see 

the  streets  in  which  he  played  when  a child,  in  these 
stony  paths  or  these  little  squares  which  separate  the 
dwellings.  The  house  of  Joseph  without  doubt  close- 
ly resembled  those  poor  shops,  lighted  by  the  door, 
serving  at  once  for  the  work- bench,  as  kitchen  and  as 
bedroom,  having  for  furniture  a matj  some  cushions 
on  the  ground,  one  or  two  earthen  vessels  and  a painted 
chest. 

The  family,  whether  the  product  of  one  or  more 
marriages,  was  rather  numerous.  Jesus  had  brothers 

• The  origin  of  the  genealogies  intended  to  connect  him  with  the  house  of  Da 
fid  will  be  explained  hereafter  (ch.  xiv).  The  Ebionim  suppressed  them  (Epiph., 
Adv.  hcer.,  xxx,  14). 

•f  Matt.,  XIII,  65;  Mark,  vi,  John,  vi,  42. 

t The  rude  appearance  of  the  ruins  which  cover  Palestine  proves  that  thf 
towns  which  were  not  reconstructed  in  the  Roman  style,  were  very  badly  built 
ks  to  the  form  of  these  houses,  it  is,  in  Syria,  so  simple  and  so  imperiously  de 
IBanded  by  the  climate,  that  it  could  never  have  changed. 


68 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


and  sisters,*  who  seem  to  have  been  younger  than 
he.f  All  remained  unknown;  for  it  appears  that;  the 
four  persons  who  are  given  as  liis  brothers,  and  among 
whom  one  at  least,  James,  attained  great  importance 
in  the  first  years  of  the  development  of  Christianity, 
were  his  cousins  german.  Mary,  indeed,  had  a sister 
named  Mary  also,:]:  who  married  a certain  Alpheua 
or  Cleophas  (these  two  names  appeal  to  designate 
the  same  person), | and  was  the  mother  of  several  sons 
who  played  a very  considerable  part  among  the  first 
disciples  of  Jesus.  His  cousins  german,  who  adhered 
to  the  young  master,  while  his  real  brothers  were 
opposed  to  him,§  assumed  the  title  of  ‘^brothers  of 
the  Lord.”^  The  real  brothers  of  Jesus,  as  well  as 
their  mother,  had  no  importance  until  after  his  death.** 
Even  then  they  do  not  appear  to  have  equalled  their 
cousins  in  consideration,  whose  conversion  had  been 

♦ Matt,  XII,  46  seqq.;  xiii,  55  seqq. ; Mark,  iii,31  seqq.;  vi,3.  Luke,viii,  19 
Beqq. ; John,  ii,  12;  vii,  3,  5, 10;  Acts,  i,  14. 

t Matt , I,  25. 

X That  these  two  sisters  bore  the  same  name  is  a singular  fact.  Probably  there 
is  some  mistake  about  it,  arising  from  the  habit  of  giving  the  Galilean  women 
almost  indiscriminately  the  name  of  Mary. 

D They  are  not  etymologically  identical.  *A\(poiTog  is  the  transcription  of 
the  Syro-Chaldaic  name  Halpliai;  KXw'TT'oc^  or  KXsoVa^  is  a shortened  form  of 
KXso'TT'aT^o^.  But  there  may  have  been  an  artificial  substitution  of  one  for 
the  other,  as  the  Josephs  called  themselves  “ Hegesippus^’,  the  Eliakims  “ Alci 
mws”,  etc. 

^ John,  VII,  3 seqq. 

^ Indeed,  the  four  persons  who  are  given  (Matt.,  xiii,  55;  Mark,  vi,  3)  as  sons 
of  Mary,  the  mother  of  Je&us:  James,  Joseph  or  Joses,  Simon  and  Juda,  appear 
again,  or  nearly  so,  as  the  sons  of  Mary  and  Cleophas  (Matt.,  xxvii,  56;  Mark, 
XV.  40;  Gal.,  i,  19;  James,  i,  1;  Jude,  1;  Euseb.,  Chron.,  ad  ann.  K.  ncccx;  HisL 
•a:cI.  , III,  11,  32;  Constit.  Apost. , VII,  46).  The  hypothesis  which  we  have  proposed 
alone  relieves  us  from  the  enormous  difficulty  of  supposing  two  sisters  each  hav- 
ing three  or  four  sons  bearing  the  same  names.  and  admitting  that  James  and 
Simon,  the  first  two  bishops  of  Jerusalem,  called  the  “ brothers  of  the  Lord,^^ 
were  the  real  brothers  of  Jesus,  who  were  hostile  to  him  at  first,  but  were  after- 
wards converted.  The  evangelist,  hearing  these  four  sons  called  “brothers  ol 
the  Lord,”  might  have  put  by  mistake,  their  names  in  the  passage,  Matt.,  xiii. 
55  = Mark,  vi,  3,  in  place  of  the  names  of  the  real  brothers,  who  still  remained 
in  obscurity.  We  may  thus  explain  how  the  character  of  the  persons  called 
“ brothers  of  the  Lord,”  of  James  for  example,  is  so  different  from  that  of  the 
real  brothers  of  Jesus,  as  we  see  it  drawn  in  John,  vii,  3 seqq.  The  expression 
“ brother  of  the  Lord”  evidently  constituted  in  the  primitive  church  a kind  o/ 
»rder  something  like  that  of  the  apostles.  See  especially  1 Cor.,  ix,  6. 

Acts,  1,14. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


69 


more  spontaneous,  and  whose  character  appears  to  have 
had  more  originality.  Their  names  were  iinKnown,  to 
such  a degree  that  when  the  evangelist  puts  in  the 
mouth  of  the  people  of  Nazareth  the  enumeration  of 
the  natural  brothers,  it  is  the  names  of  the  sons  ot 
(Jleophas  which  are  immediately  presented  to  his  mind 
His  sisters  married  at  Nazareth,*  and  there  he  spent 
his  early  years.  Nazareth  was  a little  town,  situated 
in  a fold  of  land  broadly  open  at  the  summit  of  the  group 
of  mountains  which  closes  on  the  north  the  plain  of  Es- 
draelon.  The  population  is  now  from  three  to  four  thou- 
sand and  it  cannot  have  varied  very  much.f  It  is  quite 
cold  in  winter  and  the  climate  is  very  healthy.  The 
town,  like  all  the  Jewish  villages  of  the  time,  was  a 
mass  of  dwellings  built  without  pretensions  to  style, 
and  must  have  presented  that  poor  and  uninteresting 
appearance  which  is  offered  by  villages  in  Semitic 
countries.  The  houses,  from  all  that  appears,  did  not 
differ  much  from  those  cubes  of  stone,  without  interior 
or  exterior  elegance,  which  now  cover  the  ricliest  por- 
tion of  the  Lebanon,  and  which  in  the  midst  of  vines 
and  tig-trees,  are  nevertheless  very  pleasant.  The  en- 
virons, moreover,  are  charming,  and  no  place  in  the 
world  was  so  well  adapted  to  dreams  of  absolute  happi- 
ness. Even  in  our  days,  Nazareth  is  a delightful  so- 
journ, the  only  place  perhaps  in  Palestine  where  the 
soul  feels  a little  relieved  of  the  burden  which  weighs 
upon  it  in  the  midst  of  this  unequalled  desolation 
The  people  are  friendly  and  good-natured;  the  gar- 
dens are  fresh  and  green.  Antoninus  Martyr,  at  the 

* Mark,  vi,  3. 

According  to  Josephus  {B.  J III  iii.  2),  the  smallest  yilla^  in  Galilee  lyiS 
more  than  five  thousand  inhahitantfl.  There  is  prohablj  in  this  some  axaggefft 
lion 


70 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


end  of  the  sixtli  century  draws  an  enchanting  picture 
of  the  fertility  of  the  environs,  which  he  compares  to 
paradise.*  Some  valleys  on  the  western  side  fully 
justify  his  description.  The  fountain  about  Avhich  the 
life  and  gayety  of  the  little  town  formerly  ijentered 
has  been  destroyed  ; its  broken  channels  now  give  bu 
a turbid  water.  But  the  beauty  of  the  women  who 
gather  there  at  night,  this  beauty  which  was  already 
remarked  in  the  sixth  century,  and  in  which  was  seen 
the  gift  of  the  Yirgin  Mary,f  has  been  surprisingly 
well  preserved..  It  is  the  Syrian  type  in  all  its  lan- 
guishing grace.  There  is  no  doubt  that  Mary  was 
there  nearly  every  day  and  took  her  place,  with  her 
urn  upon  her  shoulder,  in  the  same  line  with  her  un- 
remembered countrywomen.  Antoninus  Martyr  re- 
maiks  that  the  Jewish  women,  elsewhere  disdainful 
to  Christians,  are  here  full  of  affability.  Even  at  this 
day,  religious  animosities  are  less  intense  at  Nazareth 
than  elsewhere. 

The  horizon  of  the  town  is  limited,  but  if  we  ascend 
a little  to  the  plateau  swept  by  a perpetual  breeze, 
which  commands  the  highest  houses,  the  prospect  is 
splendid.  To  the  west  are  unfolded  the  beautiful  lines 
of  Carmel,  terminating  in  an  abrupt  point  which 
seems  to  plunge  into  the  sea.  Then  stretch  away  the 
double  summit  which  looks  down  upon  Megiddo,  the 
mountains  of  the  country  of  Shechem  with  their  holy 
places  of  the  patriarchal  age,  the  mountains  of  Gil 
boa,  the  picturesque  little  group  with  which  are  as 
sociated  the  graceful  and  terrible  memories  of  Solam 
and  of  Endor,  andThabor  with  its  finely-rounded  form, 
which  antiquity  compared  to  a breast.  Through  a de» 


* Itiner. , § 5. 


t Antoninus  Martyr,  Uc.  ciU 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


71 


pression  between  the  mountains  of  Solam  and  Thabor, 
are  seen  the  valley  of  the  Jordan  and  the  high  plains 
of  Persea  which  form  a continuous  line  in  the  east.  To 
the  north,  the  mountains  of  Safed,  sloping  towards  the 
6ea,  hide  St.  Jean  d’Acre,  but  disclose  the  gulf  of 
Khaifa.  Such  was  the  horizon  ot  Jesus.  This  enchant- 
ed circle,,  the  cradle  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  repro* 
sented  the  world  to  him  for  years.  His  life  even  went 
little  beyond  the  limits  familiar  to  his  childhood.  For, 
beyond,  to  the  north,  you  almost  see  upon  the  slope 
of  Hermon,  Cesarea  Philippi,  his  most  advanced  point 
into  the  Gentile  world,  and  to  the  south,  you  feel  be- 
hind these  already  less  cheerful  mountains  of  Samaria, 
sad  Judea,  withered  as  by  a burning  blast  of  abstrac- 
tion and  of  death. 

If  ever  the  world  still  Christian,  but  having  attained 
a better  idea  of  what  constitutes  respect  for  origins, 
shall  desire  to  substitute  authentic  holy  places  for  the 
mean  and  apocryphal  sanctuaries  which  were  seized  up- 
on by  the  piety  of  the  barbarous  ages,  it  is  upon  this 
height  of  Nazareth  that  it  will  build  its  temple. 
There,  at  the  point  of  advent  of  Christianity,  and  at 
the  centre  of  action  of  its  founder,  should  rise  the 
great  church  in  which  all  Christians  might  pray. 
There  also,  upon  this  soil  in  which  sleep  Joseph  the 
carpenter,  and  thousands  of  forgotten  Nazarenes,  who 
have  never  crossed  the  horizon  of  their  valley,  the 
philosopher  would  be  better  situated  than  in  any  other 
[•lace  in  the  world,  to  contemplate  the  course  of  hiv 
man  things,  to  find  consolation  for  their  uncertainty 
to  find  faith  in  the  divine  object  which  the  world  pur 
sues  through  innumerable  dejections,  and  not  with 
standing  the  vanity  of  all  things. 


72 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


CHAPTER  III. 

EDUCATION  OP  JESUS. 

This  nature  at  once  smiling  and  grand,  was  the 
whole  education  of  Jesus.  He  learned  to  read  and 
write,*  doubtless  according  to  the  method  of  the 
East,  which  consists  in  putting  into  the  hands  of  the 
child  a book,  that  he  repeats  in  concert  with  )iis  little 
school-fellows  until  he  knows  it  by  heart.f  It  is 
doubtful,  however,  whether  he  really  understood  the 
Hebrew  writings  in  their  original  tongue.  The  biog- 
raphies make  him  quote  from  them  in  the  Aramaean 
tongue;  his  principles  of  exegesis,  as  nearly  as  we  can 
make  them  out  from  those  of  his  disciples,  closely  re- 
sembled those  which  were  current  at  that  time,J  and 
which  compose  the  spirit  of  the  Targums  and  the 
Midrasohim,% 

The  scliool-master  in  the  little  Jewish  towns  was  the 
hazzan^  or  reader  of  the  synagogue.!  Jesus  attended 
little  upon  the  higher  schools  of  the  scribes  or 
{Nazareth  perhaps  had  none),  and  he  had  none  of 
those  titles  which  confer  in  the  eyes  of  the  common 
people  the  privileges  of  learning.^  It  would  di  a 

* John,  VIII,  6.  f Tutam.  des  dome  Pair.  Levi,  d. 

I Matt.,  XXVII,  46;  Mark,  xv,  34. 

^ Jewish  translations  and  commentaries  of  the  Talmudic  epoch. 

I Miscluia.  i,  3.  % Matt.,  xin,  54  seqq. ; John,  vii,  14 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


78 


great  mistake,  liowever,  to  suppose  that  Jesus  was 
what  vre  call  illiterate.  The  education  of  the  schools 
marks  among  iis  a wide  distinction,  in  the  relation  of 
personal  worth,  between  tliose  who  have  received  i 
and  those  who  have  been  deprived  of  it.  It  was  no 
thus  in  the  East,  nor  generally  in  the  good  old  ages 
Ihe  crude  condition  in  which,  among  us,  in  conse- 
quence of  our  isolated  and  entirely  individual  life,  he 
remains,  who  lias  not  been  to  the  schools,  is  unknown 
in  these- forms  of  society  where  moral  culture  and  es- 
pecially the  general  spirit  of  the  time  are  transmitted 
by  perpetual  contact  with  men.  The  Arab,  who  has 
had  no  school-master,  is  often  highly  distinguished 
nevertheless ; for  the  tent  is  a kind  of  school  always 
open,  where  the  meeting  of  well-bred  people  gives 
birth  to  a great  intellectual  and  even  literary  mdve- 
ment.  Delicacy  of  manners  and  acuteness  of  mind 
nave  nothing  in  common  in  the  East  with  what  we 
call  education.  On  the  contrary,  the  school  men  are 
considered  pedantic  and  ill-bred.  In  this  state  of  so- 
ciety, ignorance,  which  among  us  condemns  a man  to 
an  inferior  rank,  is  the  condition  of  great  deeds  and  o. 
great  originality. 

It  is  not  probable  that  he  knew  Greek.  This  lan- 
guage was  little  known  in  Judea  beyond  the  classes 
which  participated  in  the  government  of  the  towns  in- 
habited by  pagans,  like  Cesarea.*  The  native  idioir 
of  Jesus  was  the  Syriac  dialect  mixed  with  He 
brew,  which  was  then  spoken  in  Palestine.f  Still  less 

• M.ischnB.. .Schekalim,  iii,  2;  Talmud  of  Jerusalem,  MegiUayhalsiCSi  xi;  Sota,  viii, 
1;  I’almud  of  Babylon,  Bciba  Kama,  83  a;  Megilla,  8 b seqq. 

t Matt.,  XXVII,  46;  Mark,  iii,  17;  v,  41;  vii,  34;  xiv,  36;  xv,  34.  The  expression 
^ (pGOVTj,  in  the  writers  of  this  time,  always  designates  the  Semitic  dia- 

lect which  was  spoken  in  Palestine  (II  Mac.,  vii,21,27;  xii,  37;  Acts,  xxi,  37, 
M , XXII  2;  XXVI,  14;  Josephus,  Ant.,  XVIII,  vi,  10;  sub.  Jin.;  B.  J.  prooem.  1 


74 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


had  he  any  knowledge  of  Greek  culture.  This  culture 
was  proscribed  by  the  Palestinian  doctors,  who  united 
in  the  same  malediction  “ he  who  breeds  swine  and 
he  who  teaches  his  son  the  wisdom  of  the  Greeks.”** 
\t  all  events,  it  had  not  penetrated  into  little  towns 
ike  Nazareth.  Notwithstanding  the  anathema  of  the 
octors,  it  is  true,  some  Jews  had  already  embraced 
the  Hellenic  culture.  Not  to  speak  of  tlie  Jewish 
school  of  Egypt,  in  which  attempts*  to  amalgamate 
Hellenism  and  Judaism  had  been  continued  for  nearly 
two  hundred  years,  Nicholas  of  Damascus  had  become 
at  this  very  time,  one  of  the  most  distinguished,  most 
learned  and  most  honored  men  of  his  age.  Very  soon 
Josephus  v;as  to  furnish  another  example  of  a Jew 
completely  Ilellenized.  But  Nicholas  was  Jewish  in 
nothing  but  race ; Josephus  declares  that  he  was  an 
exception  among  his  cotemporaries,f  and  the  whole 
schismatic  school  of  Egypt  had  so  completely  de- 
tached itself  from  Jerusalem,  that  no  mention  of  it  is 
found  either  in  the  Talmud  or  in  Jewish  tradition.  It 
is  certain  that  at  Jerusalem  Greek  was  very  little  stu- 
died, that  Greek  studies  were  considered  dangerous 
and  even  servile ; that  they  were  declared  good  at 
most  as  an  ornament  for  women. ± The  study  of  the 
Law  alone  was  considered  liberal  and  worthy  of  a 
serious  man.|  A learned  rabbi,  when  asked  at  what 

V,  VI,  3;  V,  IX,  2;  VI,  ii,  1;  Contra  Apion. , I,  9,  Macch.. , 12, 16).  We  skall  filbow 
hereafter  that  some  of  the  documents  which  served  as  a basis  for  the  synoptie 
gvangelists  were  written  in  this  Semitic  dialect.  The  same  was  the  case  with 
everal  of  the  apocry^phal  books  (IV  Mac. , ad  calcem,  etc.).  In  short,  the  Chria» 
tian  community  which  issued  directly  from  the  first  Galilean  movement  (Naza- 
renes,  Ebionim,  etc.),  which  long  continued  in  Batanea  and  Haouran,  spoke  4 
Semitic  dialect  (Eusebius,  De  situ  et  nomin^loc.  M>r.,  at  the  word  Xw/3a;  Spiph. 
Adv.  hcer. , xxix  ,7,9;  xxx , 3 ; St.  J erome , In  Matth. , xii , 13 ; Dial.  adv.  Pelag. , III , 2) 
♦ Mischna,  ^Shwft.edrin,  xi,  1;  Talmud  of  Babylon,  Baba  Raima ^ 82  6 and  83  a, 
49,  a.and  h;  'Menachoth^  64  h;  Comp.  II,  Mac.,  iv,  10  seqq. 
t Jos.,  Ant. , XX,  XI,  2.  X Talmud  of  Jerusalem,  Peahy  i,  1. 

I Jos.,  AfU.,  loc.  cit ; Grig.,  Contra  Ceisum,  II,  34. 


LIFE  OF 


76 


time  it  was  proper  to  teach  Ghild^’en  ^^the  wisdom  of 
the  Greeks,”  answered  : ‘‘  At  tlie  hour  which  is  neithei 
day  nor  night,  for  it  is  written  of  the  Law  : Thou  shalt 
study  it  day  and  night.”* 

Neither  directly  nor  indirectly,  therefore,  did  any 
dement  of  Hellenic  culture  make  its  way  to  Jesus. 
He  knew  nothing  beyond  Judaism,  his  mind  pre* 
served  this  frank  simplicity  which  is  always  enfeebled 
by  an  extensive  and  varied  culture.  In  the  very  bo 
som  of  Judaism,  he  was  still  a stranger  to  many  efforti 
some  of  which  were  parallel  to  his  own.  On  one  hand, 
the  asceticism  of  the  Essenes,  or  Therapeutes,f  on  the 
other,  the  fine  essays  in  religious  philosophy,  made  by 
the  Jewish  school  of  Alexandria,  and  ingeniously  in- 
terpreted by  Philo,  his  cotemporary,  were  to  him  un- 
known. The  frequent  resemblances  which  we  find 
between  him  and  Philo,  those  excellent  maxims  of  the 
love  of  God,  of  charity,  of  rest  in  God,;]:  which  seem 
an  echo  between  the  Gospel  and  the  writings  of  the 
illustrious  Alexandrian  thinker,  come  from  the  com- 
mon tendencies  which  the  demands  of  the  age  inspired 
in  all  elevated  souls. 

Happily  for  him,  he  knew  no  more  of  the  grotesque 
scholasticism  ^vhich  was  taught  at  Jerusalem,  and 
which  was  soon  to  constitute  the  Talmud.  If  a few 
Pharisees  had  already  brought  it  to  Galilee,  he  did 
not  attend  upon  them,  and  when  he  afterwards  came 
in  contact  with  this  silly  casuistry,  it  inspired  in  him 
nothing  but  disgust.  We  may  suppose,  however,  that 

* Talmud  of  Jerusalem,  Peak,  i,  1;  Talmud  of  Babylou,  Menachoth,  99  b. 
f The  TherapeiUes  of  Philo  are  a branch  of  the  Essenes.  Their  naait 
even  appears  to  be  only  a Greek  translation  of  that  of  the  Essence  (*E(f(faroi* 
ntaya , ‘ ‘ physicians’ 0 • Cf.  Philo , De  Vita  contempt  init. 

J See  especially  the  treatises  Quis  renm  divinarum  hceres  sU  and  De  PhtUmikirwJi4 
Of  Philo. 


76  ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITT. 

the  principles  of  Hillel  were  not  unknown  to  him, 
Hillel,  fifty  years  before  him,  had  pronounced  aphon 
isms  closely  analogoas  to  his.  By  his  poverty  endured 
witli  humility,  by  the  sweetness  of  his  character,  by 
the  oppoe-ition  which  he  made  to  the  hypocrites  and 
priests,  Hillel  was  the  real  teacher  of  Jesus,*  if  we  may 
say  teacher  when  speaking  of  so  lofty  an  originality. 

The  reading  of  the  books  of  the  Old  Testament  pro- 
duced upon  him  much  greater  impression.  The  canon 
of  the  sacred  books  was  composed  of  two  principal 
parts — the  Law,  that  is,  the  Pentateuch,  and  the 
Prophets  as  we  now  possess  them.  A vast  allegorical 
exegesis  was  applied  to  all  these  books,  and  sought  to 
extract  what  is  not  in  them,  but  what  responded  to 
the  aspirations  of  the  time.  The  Law,  which  repre- 
sented, not  the  ancient  laws  of  the  country,  but  rather 
utopias,  the  factitious  laws  and  the  pious  frauds  of  the 
time  of  the  pietistic  kings,  had  become,  since  the  na- 
tion had  ceased  to  govern  itself,  an  inexhaustible 
theme  of  subtle  interpretations.  As  to  the  prophets 
and  psalms,  they  were  persuaded  that  nearly  all  the 
allusions  in  these  books  which  were  even  slightly  mys- 
terious, related  to  the  Messiah,  and  they  sought  in  ad- 
vance the  type  of  him  who  was  to  realize  the  hopes  of 
the  nation.  Jesus  shared  the  universal  taste  for  these 
allegorical  interpretations.  But  the  real  poetry  of  tlie 
Bible,  which  w^as  lost  to  the  puerile  expositors  of  Je 
rusalem,  w’as  fully  revealed  to  his  exquisite  genius^ 
The  Law  appears  to  have  had  for  him  but  littla 
charm  ; he  thought  he  could  do  better.  BiTt 
the  religious  poetry  of  the  psalms  was  in  won* 


* Pirke  Ahoth  ch.  i and  ii;  Talm.  of  Jerus.,  PesacAm,  vi,  1;  Taluou  C Bab.|  Pit 
66  a;  Scha^^bath  b and  31  a ; Joma,  85  b. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


7*? 


derful  liarmony  witli  liis  Ijrical  soul ; all  hla  Jfe 
they  were  his  sustenance  and  his  support.  The  proph^ 
ets,  Isaiah  in  particular  and  his  continuatorof  the  time 
of  tlie  captivity,  with  their  splendid  dreams  of  the  fu 
ture,  their  impetuous  eloquence  and  their  invectives 
intermingled  with  enchanting  pictures,  were  his  real 
teachers.  Undoubtedly  he  read  also  many  modern 
writings,  whose  authors,  to  gain  an  authority  now  ac- 
corded only  to  very  ancient  writings,  hid  themselves 
beneath  the  names  of  prophets  and  patriarchs*  One  of 
these  books  made  a deep  impression  upon  him,  the 
book  of  Daniel.  This  book,  composed  by  an  exalted 
Jew  of  the  time  of  Antiochus  Epiphanes,  and  placed 
by  him  under  the  shelter  of  an  ancient  sage,*  was  the 
Bumming  up  of  the  spirit  of  the  latter  days.  Its  au- 
thor, the  real  creator  of  the  philosophyof  history,  for 
the  first  time  dared  to  see  in  the  movement  of  the 
world,  and  the  succession  of  empires,  merely  a func- 
tion subordinate  to  the  destiny  of  the  Jewish  people. 
Jesus  was  at  an  early  period  thrilled  by  these  lofty 
hopes.  Perhaps  also,  he  read  the  books  of  Enoch, 
then  revered  equally  with  the  sacred  books, f and  the 
other  writings  of  the  same  kind,  which  upheld  so 
great  a movement  in  the  popular  imagination.  The 
advent  of  the  Messiah  with  his  glories  and  his  ter- 
rors, the  nations  dashing  one  agairst  another,  the  cata- 
clysm of  heaven  and  earth,  were  the  familiar  food  of 
his  imagination,  and  as  these  revolutions  were  thought 

♦ The  legend  of  Daniel  was  already  formed  in  the  seventh  century  B.  C.  (Eae 
kiel  xi  Vy  1 4 seqq..-  xxvm,  3) . It  was  for  the  necessities  of  the  legend  that  he  waj 
made  to  live  in  the  time  of  the  Babylonish  captivity. 

+ J ude,  14  seqq.  II  Petri,  ii,  4, 1 1 ; Testam.  des  dauze  Pair. , Simeon,  5;  Levi,  14» 
16:  Juda,  18;  Zab.  3. ; Dan.  5;  Nephtali,  4.  The  “ Book  of  Enoch”  still  forms  an 
Inregral  portion  of  the  Ethiopian  Bible . As  it  has  come  to  us  in  the  Ethiopian 
vereion,  it  is  composed  of  pieces  of  different  dates,  the  oldest  of  which  are  oi  tha 
year  130  or  150  B.  C.  Some  of  the  pieces  are  analagous  to  the  discourses  of 
IU8.  Compare  oh.  xcvi-xcix  with  Luke,  vi,  24  seqq. 


78 


OKlftlHo  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


to  be  at  hand,  so  that  a multitude  of  peopTo  vrera 
seeking  to  compute  their  times,  the  supernatural  order 
of  things  into  which  such  visions  transport  us,  appear^ 
ed  to  him  from  the  first  perfectly  simple  and  natural. 
That  he  had  no  knowledge  of  the  general  condition 
of  the  world  may  be  learned  from  every  line  of  hi 
most  authentic  discourses.  The  earth  to  him  appears 
still  to  be  divided  into  kingdoms  which  are  at  war ; he 
seems  to  be  ignorant  of  the  Roman  peace,”  and  the 
new  state  of  society  which  his  century  inaugurated. 
He  had  no  precise  idea  of  the  Roman  power ; the  name 
of ‘^Csesar”  alone  had  reached  him.  He  saw  the  building, 
in  Galilee  or  its  environs,  of  Tiberias,  Julias,  Diocesarea 
and  Cesarea,  pompous  works  of  the  Herods  who  sought 
by  these  magnificent  constructions,  to  prove  their  ad- 
miration for  Roman  civilization  and  their  devotion  to 
the  members  of  the  family  of  Augustus,  whose  names 
by  a freak  of  fate,  serve  to-day,  grotesquely  mutilated, 
to  designate  the  wretched  hamlets  of  the  Bedouins. 
Probably  he  saw  also  Sebaste,  the  work  of  Herod  the 
Great,  a gala  city,  whose  ruins  would  lead  to  the  be- 
lief that  it  was  brouglit  ready  made,  like  a piece  of 
mechanism  which  had  only  to  be  set  up  in  its  place. 
This  ostentatious  architecture,  which  arrived  in  Judea 
by  cargoes,  these  hundreds  of  coluttms  all  of  the 
same  diameter,  the  ornament  of  some  insipid  Rue 
de  Rivoli,”  such  is  what  he  called  the  kingdoms  of 
ihe  world  and  all  their  glory.”  But  this  luxury  of 
power,  this  govermental  and  official  art  was  displcrtsing 
to  him.  What  he  loved  was  his  Galilean  villages, 
confused  medleys  of  cabins,  of  threshing-floors  and 
wine-presses  cut  in  the  rock,  of  wells  and  tombs,  of 
fig  and  olive  trees.  He  always  continued  near  to  na 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


79 


ture.  The  court  of  the  kings  seemed  to  him  a place 
where  people  wear  fine  clothes.*  The  charming  im- 
possibilities with  which  his  parables  swarm,  when  he 
puts  kings  and  mighty  men  upon  the  scene, f provea 
that  he  had  no  conception  of  aristocratic  society  save 
tliat  of  a 

the  prism  of  his  own  simplicity.  " 

Still  l^s  was  h'e^cqu^^  with  the  new  idea, 
created  by  Greek  science,  which  is  the  basis  of  all 
philosophy  and  which  modern  science  has  fully  con- 
firmed, the  exclusion  of  the  capricious  gods  to  whom 
the  early  faith  of  tlie  ancient  ages  attributed  the  gov< 
ernment  of  the  universe.  Nearly  a century  before 
him  Lucretius  had  given  admirable  expression  to  the 
inflexibility  of  the  general  regime  of  nature.  The 
negation  of  miracle,  this  idea  that  everything  is  pro- 
duced in  the  world  by  laws  in  which  the  personal  in- 
tervention of  superior  beings  has  no  share,  was  the 
common  law  in  the  great  schools  of  all  countries 
which  had  received  Greek  science.  Perhaps  even 
Babylon  and  Persia  were  not  strangers  to  it.  Jesus 
knew  nothing  of  this  advance.  Though  born  at  a 
time  when  the  principle  of  positive  science  had  al- 
ready been  proclaimed,  he  lived  in  the  midst  of  the 
supernatural.  Never  perhaps  had  the  Jews  been 
more  devoured  by  the  thirst  of  the  marvellous.  Philo 
who  lived  in  a great  intellectual  centre,  and  whc  hai. 
received  a very  complete  education,  has  only  a falsa 
chimerical  science. 

Jesus  differed  in  this  point  in  no  wise  from  his  coun 
trymen.  He  believed  in  the  devil  whom  he  looked 
upon  as  a sort  of  genius  of  evil,:}:  and  imagined,  with 

• Matt.,  XI,  8.  f See,  for  example  Matt.,  xxii,  2 seqq  J Matt,  n,  13- 


80 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


evexy  other,  that  nervous  diseases  were  the  work  of 
demons,  who  took  possession  of  the  patient  and  tor- 
mented him.  To  him  the  marvellous  was  not  the  ex- 
ceptional; it  was  the  moral  condition.  The  idea  of 
the  supernatural  with  its  impossibilities,  was  not  con- 
ceived until  the  day  when  the  experimen^l  science 
of  nature  was  discovered.  The  man  who  is  a stranger 
to  all  notion  of  physics,  who  believes  that  by  a prayer 
he  changes  the  course  of  the  clouds,  controls  disease 
and  even  death  itself,  sees  nothing  extraordinary  in 
miracle,  since  the  whole  course  of  things  is  to  him  the 
result  of  the  free  volitions  of  divinity.  This  intellec- 
tual state  was  always  that  of  Jesus.  But  in  his  great 
soul  such  a faith  produced  eflfects  entirely  different 
from  those  which  it  produced  upon  the  multitude.  With 
the  multitude,  faith  in  the  special  action  of  God  led  to 
a silly  credulity  and  to  the  deceptions  of  charlatans. 
To  him  it  gave  a deep  idea  of  the  familiar  relations 
of  man  with  God  and  an  exaggerated  faith  in  the 
might  of  man ; admirable  errors  which  were  the  prin- 
ciple of  his  power ; for  if  they  were  one  day  to  put 
him  to  the  fault  in  the  eyes  of  the  physicist  and  the 
chemist,  they  gave  him  a power  over  his  time  which  no 
individual  ever  wielded  before  or  since. 

Early  in  life  his  peculiar  character  revealed  itself 
Tradition  delights  in  showing  him  even  when  a 
child  in  rebellion  against  the  paternal  authority  and 
•caving  the  common  track  to  follow  his  calling.*  It  is 
certain  at  least  that  the  relations  of  kindred  were  lit 
tie  to  him.  His  family  seems  not  to  have  loved  hiinj-j 

♦ Luke,  II,  42  Beqq.  The  apocryphal  gospels  are  full  of  such  stories  carried  t4 
•he  grotesque. 

*■  Matt. , xiu,  57,  Mark,  vi,  4;  J ohn  vu,  3 seqq  See  hereafter,  page  163, uote  61 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


81 


and  at  times,  we  find  him  harsh  towards  them,*  Jesus 
like  all  men  exclusively  absorbed  in  an  idea,  came  to 
make  small  account  of  ties  of  blood.  The  bond  of 
the  idea  is  the  only  one  which  such  natures  recognize. 
‘‘  Behold  my  mother  and  my  brethren,’’  said  he  stretch- 
ing forth  his  hand  towards  his  disciples  ; “ whosoever 
shall  do  tlie  will  of  my  father,  the  same  is  my  brother 
and  my  sister.”  The  simple  people  did  not  understand 
him  thus,  and  one  day  a woman,  passing  by  him,  ex 
claimed,  it  is  said  : Blessed  the  womb  that  bare  thee, 

and  the  paps  that  gave  thee  suck !”  “ Blessed  rather,” 
he  answered,  ‘‘  they  that  hear  the  word  of  God  and 
keep  it.”f  Soon,  in  his  daring  revolt  against  nature,  he 
was  to  go  still  farther,  and  we  shall  see  him  tramp- 
ling under  his  feet  all  that  is  humun,  kindred,  love,  coun- 
try, devoting  heart  and  soul  only  to  the  idea  which 
appeared  to  him  as  the  absolute  form  of  the  good  and 
the  true.  ^ 

♦ Matt. , xii,  48 ; Mark,  m,  33  Luke,  viil,  21 ; John,  ii,  4 ; Gospel  acoording  to  tki 
Mebrews,  in  St.  Jerome,  JXai  ido,  Fdag.,  III.  2. 

t Luke,  XI.  27  aeqq. 


82 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

OHDeB  of  ideas  amid  which  JBSUS  was  DEVBl  >P£M 

As  the  cooled  earth  permits  us  no  longer  to  compre- 
hend the  phenomena  of  the  primitive  creation,  because 
the  fire  which  pervaded  it  is  extinguished,  so  the  ex- 
planations of  reason  are  always  insufficient  in  some 
respect,  when  we  apply  our  timid  processes  of  induc- 
tion to  the  revolutions  of  those  creative  epochs  which 
have  decided  the  destiny  of  the  human  race.  Jesus 
lived  in  one  of  those  periods  when  the  part  of  public 
life  is  played  with  freedom,  when  the  stakes  of  human 
activity  are  centupled.  Every  grand  life,  then,  in- 
sures death  ; for  such  movements  presuppose  a liberty 
and  an  absence  of  preventive  measures,  which  cannot 
exist  without  a terrible  counterpoise.  Now,  man  risk 
little  and  wins  little.  In  the  heroic  ages  of  human  ac- 
tivity man  risked  all  and  won  all.  The  good  and  the 
bad,  or  at  least  those  who  considered  themselves  and 
were  considered  such,  form  opposing  armies.  By  the 
scaffold  lies  the  path  to  apotheosis ; grand  charactei*S 
have  incriminated  traits  which  engrave  them  as  eter 
nal  types  in  the  memory  of  men.  If  we  except  the 
French  Revolution,  no  historic  medium  was  so  fitting 
as  that  in  which  Jesus  was  formed,  to  develop  those 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


83 


hidden  powers  which  humanity  holds  as  if  in  reserve, 
and  which  she  never  reveals  except  in  her  days  of  fever 
and  of  danger. 

If  the  government  of  the  world  were  a speculative 
problem,  and  the  greatest  philosopher  were  the  man 
best  fitted  to  tell  his  fellows  what  they  should  believe, 
then  from  calmness  and  refiection  would  spring  those 
grand  moral  and  doctrinal  rules  which  are  called  reli- 
gions. But  it  is  not  so.  If  we  except  Sakya-Mouni, 
the  great  religious  founders  have  not  been  metaphysi- 
cians. Buddhism  itself,  although  the  product  of  pure 
thought,  conquered  half  of  Europe  for  reasons  entirely 
political  and  moral.  As  to  tlie  Semitic  religions,  they 
are  as  little  philosophic  as  possible.  Moses  and  Ma- 
homet were  never  given  to  speculation  ; they  were  men 
of  action.  It  was  by  proposing  action  to  their  coun- 
trymen, their  cotemporaries,  that  they  mastered  hu- 
manity. Jesus,  likewise,  was  no  theologian,  no  phi- 
losopher with  a system  more  or  less  admirable.  To  be 
a disciple  of  Jesus,  it  was  necessary  to  sign  no  formu- 
la, to  pronounce  no  profession  of  faith ; but  a single 
thing  was  necessary,  to  follow  him,  to  love  him.  He 
never  argued  in  relation  to  God,  for  he  felt  him  direct- 
ly within  himself.  The  shoal  of  metaphysical  subtle^ 
ties  upon  which  Christianity  struck  in  the  third  centu- 
ry, was  in  no  wise  the  work  of  the  founder.  Jesus  had 
neither  dogmas  nor  system,  but  a fixed  personal  re 
solve,  which,  having  surpassed  in  intensity  every  oth 
er  created  will,  directs  even  to  this  hour  the  destinies 
of  humanity. 

The  Jewish  people  had  the  advantage,  from  the  Ba- 
bylonish captivity  to  the  middle  ages,  of  being  always 
in  a very  intense  condition.  This  is  why  the  deposita* 


84 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRIST]  ANITY. 


ries  of  the  national  spirit,  during  this  long  periodj 
seem  to  write  under  the  action  of  a high  fever,  which 
places  them  continually  above  and  beneath  reason, 
rarely  in  its  medium  path.  Never  had  man  seized 
ipon  the  problem  of  the  future  and  of  his  destiny 
with  a courage  more  desperate,  more  determined  to 
rush  to  extremes.  Making  no  sep^ation  of  the  u to 
of  humanity  from  that  of  their  little  race,  the  Jewish 
thinkers  are  the  first  who  cared  for  a general  theory 
of  the  progress  of  our  species.  Greece,  always  shut 
up  in  herself,  and  mindful  only  of  the  quarrels  of  her 
little  towns,  had  admirable  historians;  but  before  the 
Roman  epoch,  we  may  search  Gre|ce  in  vain  for  a gene- 
ral system  of  historical  philosophy,  embracing  all  hu- 
manity. The  Jew,  on  the  contrary,  thanks  to  a kind 
of  prophetic  sense  which  at  times  renders  the  Semite 
marvellously  apt  to  see  the  grand  outlines  of  the  fu- 
ture, carried  history  into  religion.  Perhaps  he  owes 
a little  of  this  spirit  to  Persia.  Persia,  from  a remote 
epoch,  conceived  the  history  of  the  world  as  a series 
of  evolutions,  over  which  a prophet  presides.  Each 
prophet  has  his  hazar^  or  reign  of  a thousand  years, 
(chiliasm),  and  of  these  successive  ages,  analogous  to 
the  millions  of  centuries  of  each  buddha  of  India,  is 
the  woof  of  events  composed  which  prepares  for  the 
reign  of  Ormuzd.  At  the  end  of  time,  when  the  circle 
of  chiliasms  shall  be  exhausted,  will  come  the  final  pa* 
radise.  Men  will  then  live  happy  ; the  earth  v/ill  be 
like  a plain  ; there  will  be  but  one  language,  one  law, 
and  one  government  for  all  men.  But  this  advent 
will  be  preceded  by  terrible  calamities.  Dahak  (the 
SatHU  of  Persia)  will  break  the  chains  which  bind  him 
and  will  fall  upon  the  world.  Two  prophets  will  oomw 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


85 


to  console  /nen  and  to  prepare  for  the  grand  advent.* 
These  ideas  made  their  way  over  the  world  and  pene^ 
trated  even  to  Rome,  where  they  inspired  a cycle  of 
prophetic  poems,  the  fundamental  ideas  of  which  were 
ho  division  of  the  history  of  humanity  into  periods, 
he  succession  of  the  gods  corresponding  to  these  pe- 
iods,  a complete  renewal  of  the  world,  and  the  final 
advent  of  the  golden  age.f  The  book  of  Daniel,  the 
book  of  Enoch,  and  certain  portions  of  the  Sibylline 
books,:}:  are  the  Jewish  expression  of  the  same  theory. 
It  is  true  that  these  were  not  the  thoughts  of  all.  They 
were  embraced  at  first  only  by  a few  persons  of  lively 
imagination  and  inclined  to  foreign  doctrines.  The 
xr\d  and  narrow-minded  author  of  the  book  of  Esther 
never  thought  of  the  rest  of  the  world  except  with 
feelings  of  malevolence  and  disdain. § The  disabused 
epicurean  who  w^ote  Ecclesiastes,  thinks  so  little  of 
the  future  that  he  considers  it  useless  even  to  labor  for 
his  children ; in  the  eyes  of  this  egotistic  bachelor  the 
final  word  of  wisdom  is  to  spend  as  you  go.|  But  the 
great  deeds  of  a nation  are  usually  done  by  the  minorityc 
With  its  enormous  faults,  harsh,  egotistic,  sneering, 
cruel,  narrow,  subtle,  sophistical,  the  Jewish  nation  is 
Btill  the  author  of  the  finest  movement  of  disinterested 
enthusiasm  in  all  history.  The  opposition  always  cre- 
ates the  glory  of  a country.  The  greatest  men  of  a 
nation  are  those  which  it  puts  to  death.  Socrates  ele- 
cted the  glory  of  Athens,  who  deemed  that  she  could 
jot  live  with  him.  Spinoza  is  the  greatest  of  moderx* 

< iTacna,  xm,  24;  Theopompus,  in  Pint.,  De  Isided  Osiride,  ^ 47;  Minokhired,  pa» 
»ge  published  in  the  Zeitschriftder  Deut^chenjruyrgenlandisclien  Gesellschafty  I,  p.  263 

t Virg.,  Eel.  iv:  Servius,  on  v.  4 of  this  eclogue;  Nigidius,  cited  by  Serviu# 
on  V 10.  X Book  III,  97-817. 

§ VI,  13;  vu;  10;  viii,  7 , 11-17 ; ix,  1-22;  andin  the  apocryphal  portions*  ix,  10, 11 
uv,  13  se‘iq. ; xvi,  *20,  24. 

I Eccl.,i,ll;u,16,13-24;m,ia.22;iV  8,15,16;v,17  18; vi,3,6;vUi,15;ix,9,l® 


86 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


Jews,  and  the  synagogue  expelled  him  witli  ignominy 
Jesus  was  the  glory  of  the  people  of  Israel,  who  cruci 
fied  him. 

A gigantic  dream  for  centuries  had  pursued  the 
Jewish  people,  and  renewed  it  continually  in  its  de 
crepitude.  A stranger  to  the  theory  of  individual  re 
compenso,  which  Greece  had  disseminated  under  th( 
name  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  Judea  had  con 
centrated  upon  her  national  future  all  her  power  to 
love  and  to  desire.  She  believed  that  slie  had  the  di- 
vine promise  of  a limitless  future,  and  as  the  bitter  re- 
ality, w^hich,  from  the  ninth  century  before. our  era, 
gave  the  kingdom  of  the  world  more  and  more  to  force, 
brutally  trampled  down  these  aspirations,  she  threw 
herself  upon  the  most  impossible  alliances  of  ideas,  and 
attempted  the  strangest  expedients.  Before  the  cap- 
tivity, when  all  the  earthly  future  of  the  nation  was 
dissipated  by  the  separation  of  the  northern  tribes, 
they  dreamed  of  the  restoration  of  the  house  of  David, 
the  reconciliation  of  the  two  fragments  of  the  people, 
and  the  triumph  of  theocracy  and  the  worship  of  Je- 
hovah over  the  idolatrous  worships.  At  the  time  of 
the  captivity,  a poet,  full  of  harmony,  saw  the  splen- 
dor of  a future  Jerusalem,  to  which  the  nations  and 
the  far-off  isles  should  be  tributary,  in  colors  so  soft 
that  one  would  have  said  that  a ray  from  the  beaming 
face  of  Jesus  illumined  it  at  a distance  of  six  hundred 
fears.* 

Tlie  victory  of  Cyrus  seemed  for  a time  to  realize  all 
that  had  been  hoped.  The  grave  disciples  of  the 
Avesta  and  the  worshippers  of  Jehovah  believed  them- 
eelves  brothers.  Persia  had  succeeded,  by  banishi 


♦ Isaiah,  lx,  etc. 


LIFE  OP  JESUS. 


87 


the  multitudinous  devas  and  transforming  them  into 
demons  {dws\  in  drawing  from  the  ancient  Arian  con- 
ceptions, essentially  naturalistic,  a species  of  monothe- 
ism. The  prophetic  tone  of  many  of  the  precepts  of 
Iran  had  close  analogy  to  certain  compositions  of  Ho- 
sea  and  Isaiah.  Israel  rested  under  the  Achsemeniaes,* 
and,  under  Xerxes  (Ahasuerus),  made  himself  feared 
by  the  Iranians  themselves.  But  the  triumphal  and 
often  brutal  entrance  of  the  Greek  and  Roman  civili- 
zation into  Asia,  threw  him  back  into  his  dreams. 
More  than  ever,  he  invoked  the  Messiah  as  judge  and 
avenger  of  the  nations.  He  required  a renewal  of  all 
things,  a revolution  taking  the  globe  by  the  roots  and 
shaking  it  from  top  to  bottom,  to  satisfy  the  enormous 
demand  which  was  excited  in  him  by  the  feeling  of 
his  superiority  and  the  sight  of  his  humiliations.f 
Had  Israel  possessed  the  doctrine,  termed  spiritual- 
istic, which  separates  man  into  two  parts,  body  and 
soul,  and  thinks  it  perfectly  natural  that  while  the 
body  rots,  the  soul  survives,  this  storm  of  rage  and 
energetic  protest  would  have  had  no  cause  for  exis- 
tence. But  this  doctrine,  sprung  from  Greek  philoso- 
phy, was  not  in  the  traditions  of  the  Jewish  mind.  The 
ancient  Hebrew  writings  contain  no  trace  of  future  re- 
wards or  punishments.  While  the  idea  of  the  solida- 
rity of  the  tribe  existed,  it  was  natural  not  to  look  foi 
strict  retribution  according  to  the  merits  of  each  per 
son.  Wo  to  the  pious  man  who  fell  upon  an  impicu  > 
age;  he  suffered  with  the  rest  the  public  calamities 
flowing  from  the  general  impiety.  Th^s  doctrine, 
handed  down  from  the  wise  men  of  the  patriarchal  pe- 
riod, resulted  every  day  in  indefensible  contradictions< 

♦ The  whole  hook  of  Esther  breathes  a spirit  of  strong  attachment  to  thii 
dynasty. 

t Apocryphal  letter  of  Baruch,  in  Fabricius,  Cod.  pseud.  F.  2!,  II  p.  147  seqq. 


88 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


Even  in  the  time  of  Job  it  v/as  severely  shaker. ; tli6 
old  men  of  Teman  who  professed  it  were  men  behind 
the  times,  and  the  young  Elihu,  who  comes  in  to  op- 
pose them,  dares  to  put  forth  first  of  all  this  essentially 
revolutionary  idea : wisdom  is  no  longer  to  the  aged.^ 
With  the  complications  which  the  world  had  assumed 
since  Alexander,  the  old  Temanite  and  Mosaic  princi- 
ple became  still  more  intolerable.f  Never  had  Israel 
been  more  faithful  to  the  Law,  and  yet  they  had  suf- 
fered the  atrocious  persecutions  of  Antiochus.  Only  a 
declaimer,  accustomed  to  repeat  ancient  phrases  de- 
nuded of  meaning,  dared  profess  that  these  woes  came 
because  of  the  unfaithfulness  of  the  people4  What! 
these  victims  who  died  for  their  faith,  these  heroic 
Maccabees,  this  mother  with  her  seven  sons,  shall  Je- 
hovah forget  them  eternally,  abandon  them  to  the  cor- 
ruption of  the  grave  ? | An  incredulous  and  worldly 
Sadducee,  indeed,  might  not  shrink  before  such  a result ; 
a consummate  sage,  like  Antigonus  de  Soco,§  indeed, 
might  maintain  that  we  must  not  practice  virtue  like 
a slave  for  a reward,  that  we  must  be  virtuous  without 
expectation.  But  the  mass  of  the  nation  could  not  be 
satisfied  with  that.  Some,  cleaving  to  the  principle  of 
philosophic  immortality,  pictured  to  themselves  the 
just  living  in  the  memory  of  God,  glorious  forever  in 
the  remembrance  of  men,  judging  the  impious  who  have 
persecuted  them.^  ^‘They  live  in  the  eyes  of 

♦ Job,  xxxn,  9. 

-j-  It  is  remarkable  however  that  Jesus,  son  of  Sirach,  adheres  to  it  strictly 
xvii,  26-28;  xxii,  10, 11;  xxx,  4 seqq. ; xli,  1,2;  XLiv,  9).  The  author  of  Wisdem 
Is  of  an  entirely  different  opinion  (iv.  1,  Greek  text). 

J xiv,  6,  7 (apocr  );  Apocryphal  Epistle  of  Baruch  (Fabricius,  Ck>d. pseud 
T.  II,  p.  147  seqq.) . |1  II,  Macc.,  vii.  § Pirke  Ahoth.,  i,  3. 

^ Wisdom^  ch.  ii-vi;  T>e  rationis  imperio,  attributed  to  Josephus,  8,13,16,18. 
Still  we  must  remark  that  the  author  ot  this  last  treatise  gives  the  motive  of  per 
Bonal  remuneration  only  the  second  place.  The  principal  motive  of  the  martyn 
is  the  pure  love  of  the  Law,  the  advantage  which  their  death  will  bring  to  th^ 
people  and  the  glory  which  will  be  attached  to  their  name.  Comp.  Wisdom^  it 
1 feqq  ; Eccl.,  xliv  seqq. ; Jos.  B.  J.,  II,  viii,  10;  III,  5. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


89 


God;”*  each  is  their  recompense.  Others,  the  Phari* 
Bees  especially,  had  recourse  to  the  dogma  of  the 
resurrection.f  The  just  will  live  again  to  share  in  the 
Messianic  reign.  They  will  live  again  in  the  flesh, 
and  for  a world  of  which  they  will  be  the  kings  and 
judges;  they  will  witness  the  triumph  of  their  ideas 
and  the  humiliation  of  their  enemies. 

We  And  among  the  ancient  people  of  Israel  only 
very  uncertain  traces  of  this  fundamental  dogma.  The 
Sadducee,  who  did  not  believe  in  it,  was  in  reality 
faithful  to  the  old  Jewish  doctrine  ; the  Pharisee,  the 
partizan  of  resurrection,  was  the  innovator.  But  in 
religion  it  is  always  the  zealous  portion  which  makes 
innovations  ; it  is  the  party  of  progress,  it-is  that  which 
achieves  results.  The  resurrection,  an  idea  totally  dif- 
ferent from  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  moreover, 
grew  very  naturally  out  of  the  former  doctrines  and 
condition  of  the  people.  Perhaps  Persia  also  furnished 
some  of  its  elements.:]:  At  all  events,  combining  with 

the  belief  in  the  Messiah  and  the  doctrine  of  a speedy 
renewal  of  all  things,  it  formed  those  apocalyptic  the- 
ories which,  without  being  articles  of  faith  (the  ortho- 
dox sanhedrim  of  Jerusalem  seems  not  to  have  adopted 
them),  were  rife  in  the  imagination  of  all  and  produced 
from  one  end  to  the  other  of  the  Jewish  world  an  in 
tense  fermentation.  The  total  absence  of  dog  patii 
rigor  allowed  very  contradictory  notions  to  be  accept 
ed  at  the  same  time,  even  on  a point  so  important 
Sometimes  the  just  man  was  to  await  the  resurrection 
sometimes  he  was  received  at  the  moment  of  his  death 
into  Abraham’s  bosom.§  Sometimes  the  resurrection 

• Wisdom,  IV,  1;  De  rat  imp.,  16, 18.  f H Macc.,  vii,  9, 14;  xii,  43,  44 

t Theopompus,  Diog.  Laert. , Prooem.,  9.  Boundehesch,  c.  xxxi.  The  traoa( 
»f  the  doctrine  oi  the  resurrection  in  the  Avesta  are  very  doubtful 
I JoIju.  xIj  24,  Luke,  xvi,  22.  Cf.  De  rai.  imp.y  13, 16, 1§. 


90 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


was  universal,*  sometimes  reserved  for  the  faithful 
alone.f  Sometimes  it  supposed  a renewed  earth  and  a 
new  Jerusalem;  sometimes  it  implied  a preliminary 
annihilation  of  the  universe. 

Jesus,  with  his  earliest  thoughts,  entered  into  the 
burning  atmosphere  which  created  in  Palestine  th# 
ideas  that  we  have  set  forth.  These  ideas  were  taught 
at  no  school ; but  they  were  in  the  air,  and  his  soul 
was  soon  filled  with  them.  Our  hesitations,  our  doubts 
never  reached  him.  Upon  this  summit  of  the  moun- 
tain of  Nazareth,  where  no  modern  man  can  sit  with 
out  an  anxious  feeling,  perhaps  frivolous  in  regard  to 
his  future,  Jesus  has  sat  twenty  times  without  a doubt. 
Free  from  selfishness,  the  source  of  our  sorrows,  which 
makes  us  seek  greedily  an  interest  beyond  the  tomb 
for  virtue,  he  thought  only  of  his  work,  his  race,  hu- 
manity. To  him  these  mountains,  this  sea,  tliis  azure 
sky,  these  high  plains  in  the  horizon  were  not  the  mel- 
ancholy vision  of  a soul  questioning  nature  as  to  its 
fate,  but  the  sure  symbol,  the  transparent  shadow  of 
an  invisible  world  and  a new  heaven. 

He  never  attached  much  importance  to  the  political 
events  of  his  time,  and  he  was  probably  ill-informed 
concerning  them.  The  dynasty  of  the  Herods  lived  in 
a world  so  different  from  his,  that  undoubtedly  he  knew 
it  only  by  name.  Herod  the  Great  died  about  the 
year  of  his  birth,  leaving  imperishable  memories,  moii 
iiments  which  were  to  force  the  most  malevolent  pos* 
terity  to  associate  his  name  with  that  of  Solomon,  nev- 
ertheless  an  unfinished  work,  impossible  of  continua- 
tion.  An  ambitious  wordling  wandering  in  a labyrinth 
of  religious  strife,  this  astute  Idumean  had  that  ad'* 

♦ XU  2.  t II  Macc  , vii,  14. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


91 


vantage  which  is  given  by  coolness  and  reason,  devoid 
of  morality,  in  the  midst  of  passionate  fanatics.  But 
his  idea  of  a worldly  kingdom  of  Israel,  even  had  it 
not  been  an  anachronism  in  the  state  of  tlie  world  in 
which  he  conceived  it,  would  have  fallen  like  the  siin 
iJar  project  formed  by  Solomon,  from  the  difficultie 
arising  out  of  the  very  character  of  the  nation.  Ills 
three  sons  were  only  lieutenants  of  the  Romans,  anal* 
ogous  to  the  rajahs  of  India  under  the  English  rule. 
Antipater  or  Antipas,  tetrarch  of  Galilee  and  Perea, 
whose  subject  Jesus  was  all  his  life,  was  an  idle  prince,  a 
nobody,*  a favorite  and  parasite  of  Tiberius, f too  often 
led  astray  by  the  evil  influence  of  his  second  wife  He- 
rodias.^  Philip,  tetrarch  of  Gaulonitis  and  Batanea, 
to  whose  territory  Jesus  made  frequent  journeys,  was 
a much  better  sovereign.§  As  to  Archelaus,  ethnarch 
of  Jerusalem,  Jesus  could  not  have  known  him.  He 
was  about  ten  years  old  when  this  man,  weak,  charac- 
terless, and  sometimes  violent,  was  deposed  by  Augus- 
tus.! The  last  trace  of  autonomy  was  now  lost  to  Jerusa- 
lem, United  with  Samaria  and  Idumea,  Judea  formed 
a sort  of  additament  of  the  province  of  Syria,  where 
the  senator  Publius  Sulpicius  Quirinius,  a consul  well 
known®[  in  history,  was  imperial  legate.  A series  of 
Roman  procurators,  subordinate  in  questions  of  im- 
portance to  the  imperial  legate  of  Syria,  Coponius, 
Marcus  Ambivius,  Annius  Rufus,  Valerius  Gratus,  and, 
at  length  (A.  D.  26),  Pontius  Pilatus,  followed,  con- 

♦ Jos.,  ^n«.,  XVIII,  V,  1,  VII,  1,  2;  Luke,  iii,  IS. 

+ Jos.,  XVIII,  II,  3;  IV,  5;  V,  1.  t XVIli,  vii, 2. 

^ IWd. , XVIII,  4,  6.  if  ifeici.,  XVII  XII,  2.  .B.  J.,  II,  VII,  S 

^ Orelli,  Imcr.  lat. , No.  3693;  Ilenzen,  , No.  7041 : Fasti proenestini,  at  Mai  ck 

6th  and  April  28th  (in  the  Corpus  inscr.  lat.y  I,  314,  317);  Borghesi,  Foistes  consw 
laires  [not  yet  published],  at  the  vear  742;  R.  Bergmann,  Deinscr.lat  ad  P S 
Quirinium,iU  trid^ury referenda  (Berlin  1851).  Cf.  Tac.,  Ann.,  II, 30;  111,48;  Strab9 
XII,  VI,  5. 


92 


CRIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITYo 


stantly  occupied  in  extinguishing  the  volcano  which 
was  in  eruption  beneath  their  feet.* 

Continual  seditions  excited  by  the  zealots  of  Mosa- 
ism,  kept  Jerusalem,  indeed,  in  incessant  agitation 
luring  this  whole  period.f  The  death  of  the  seditious 
was  certain  ; but  death,  when  the  integrity  of  the  Law 
was  at  stake,  was  greedily  sought.  To  pull  down 
the  eagles,  to  destroy  the  works  cf  art  erected  by  He 
rod,  in  which  the  Mosaic  regulations  were  not  always 
respected,:}:  to  rebel  against  the  votive  shields  set  up 
by  the  procurators,  the  inscriptions  of  which  seemed 
tainted  with  idolatry,!  were  perpetual  temptations  to 
fanatics  who  had  reached  that  degree  of  exaltation 
which  takes  away  all  desire  of  life.  Judas,  son  of  Sa- 
ripheus,  and  Mathias,  son  of  Margaloth,  two  very  cel- 
ebrated doctors  of  the  law,  formed  thus  a bold  party 
of  aggression  against  the  established  order,  which  con- 
tinued after  their  execution. § The  Samaritans  were 
agitated  by  similar  movements.^  It  seems  that  the 
Law  had  never  had  more  passionate  partizans  than  at 
the  moment  when  he  already  lived  who,  by  the  full 
authority  of  his  genius  and  his  great  soul,  was  to  abro- 
gate it.  The  “ Zelotes  ’’  {Kenairn)  or  Sicarii,”  pious 
assassins  who  imposed  upon  themselves  the  task  of 
killing  whoever  disobeyed  the  Law  in  their  presence, 
began  to  appear.**  Representatives  of  an  entirely  dif 
feix)ut  spirit,  thaurnaturgists,  considered  as  a species 
>f  divine  persons,  found  credence,  in  consequence  of 

♦ Jos.  Ant,  1.  XVIII. 

books  XV] I and  XVIII  entire,  and  B.  J.,  books  I and  II. 

Jos.  ArU.,  XV,  X.  4.  Comp.  Book  of  Enoch,  xcvii,  13, 14. 

jj  Philo,  Leg.  ad  Caium,  § 38. 

S Jos.  Ant , XV,  VI,  2 seqq.  ,B.J,1,  xxxiii,  3 seqq. 

f Jos.,  .4n«.,  XVIIl,  IV,  1 seqq. 

^ Mischna,  Sanhedrin^  ix,  0;  John,  xvi,  2;  Jos  , B.  J.,  book  IV  seqq. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS.  93 

the  imperious  necessity  felt  by  the  age  for  the  super 
natural  and  the  divine.* 

A movement  which  had  much  more  influence  upon 
Jesus  was  that  of  Juda  the  Gaulonite  or  the  Galilean. 
Of  all  the  obligations  to  which  countries  newly  con- 
quered by  Home  were  exposed,  the  assessment  was 
the  most  unpopnlar.f  This  measure,  which  always 
astonishes  nations  little  accustomed  to  the  burdens  of 
great  central  administrations,  was  particularly  hateful 
to  the  Jews.  Already  under  David  we  see  a census 
provoke  violent  recriminations  and  the  threats  of  the 
prophets.:}:  The  census,  in  fact,  was  the  basis  of  the 

tax ; now  the  tax,  according  to  the  ideas  of  the  pure 
theocracy,  was  almost  impious.  God  being  the  only 
master  whom  man  should  recognize,  to  pay  tithes  to  a 
mundane  sovereign,  is  in  some  sort  to  put  him  in  the 
place  of  God.  A complete  stranger  to  the  idea  of  the 
State,  the  Jewish  theocracy  in  this,  merely  carried  to 
its  last  result  the  negation  of  civil  society  and  of  all 
government.  The  money  of  the  public  treasury  was 
considered  to  be  stolen.§  The  assessment  ordered  by 
Quirinius  (A.  D.  6)  thoroughly  awoke  these  ideas  and 
caused  great  fermentation.  A commotion  broke  out 
in  the  northern  provinces.  A certain  Juda,  of  the 
town  of  Gamala,  on  the  eastern  shore  of  Lake  Tiberias, 
and  a Pharisee,  named  Sadok,  gathered  together,  by 
denying  the  lawfulness  of  the  tax,  a numerous  school, 
which  soon  came  to  open  revolt.  | The  fundamental 

^ Acts ^ VIII,  9.  Verse  11th  implies  that  Simon  the  Magician  was  already  ctle* 
brated  in  the  time  of  J esus. 

f Discours  de  Claude,  a Lyon,  tab.  ii,  sub  fin.  De  Boissieu,  Insar  ant.  de  Lyon, 
p.  136.  J II  Sam. , XXIV. 

h Talmud  de  Bab.,  Baba  Kama,  113  a;  Schdbbath,  33  b. 

Q Jos.,  Ant,  XVIII,  1, 1,  6;  B.  J.,  II,  viii,  1;  Acts,  r.  37.  Before  Juda  the  Gau- 
lonite,  the  Acts  place  another  agitator,  Theudas;  but  that  is  an  auachronism:  th< 
tommotion  of  Theudas  was  A.  D.  44  (Jos.,  Ant.,  XX,  v,  1). 


94 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


maxims  of  the  school  were  that  no  person  snould  b€ 
called  master,”  that  title  belonging  to  God  alone 
and  that  liberty  is  better  than  life.  Juda  had  un 
doubtedly  many  other  principles  which  Josephus,  al 
ways  anxious  not  to  compromise  his  co-religionists, 
intentionally  passes  over  in  silence  ; for  we  could  not 
understand  that  for  an  idea  so  simple,  the  Jewish  his- 
torian should  give  him  a place  among  the  philosophers 
of  his  nation,  and  regard  him  as  the  founder  of  a fourth 
school,  parallel  to  those  of  the  Pharisees,  Sadducees, 
and  Essenes.  Juda  was  evidently  the  chief  of  a Gali- 
lean sect,  which  was  full  of  Messianism,  and  which  ended 
in  a political  movement.  The  procurator  Ooponius 
crushed  the  sedition  of  the  Gaulonite  ; but  the  school 
survived  and  preserved  its  leaders.  Under  the  guidance 
of  Menaliem,  the  son  of  the  founder,  and  of  a certain 
Eleazar,  his  relative,  we  find  it  very  active  in  the  final, 
struggles  of  the  Jews  against  the  Romans.*  Jesus, 
perhaps,  saw  this  Juda  who  had  so  different  a concep- 
tion of  the  Jewish  revolution  from  his  own  ; he  knew 
his  school,  at  all  events,  and  it  was  probably  through 
reaction  against  his  mistake,  that  he  pronounced  the 
axiom  in  relation  to  the  penny  of  Caesar.  The  wise 
Jesus,  far  removed  from  all  sedition,  profited  by'  the 
error  of  his  precursor  and  looked  to  another  kingdom 
and  another  deliverance. 

Galilee  was  thus  a vast  caldron  in  which  the  most 
diverse  elements  were  in  ebullition. f An  extraordina- 
ry contempt  of  life,  or  rather  a species  of  appetite  foi 
death  was  the  consequence  of  these  commotions.:}:  Ex- 

* Jos.,  B.  J.j  II,  XVII,  8 seqq. 

t Luke,  XIII,  1.  T he  Galilean  movement  of  Juda,  son  of  Hezekiah,  seems  nof> 
to  have  had  a religious  character;  perhaps,  however,  its  chaj»«ter  was  concealed 
by  Josephus  XVII,  X,  5). 

X Jos.,  Ant.,  XVI,  VI,  2,  XVIII,  1,1. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


96 


pel ience  counts  for  nothing  in  the  grand  raovemeEta 
of  fanaticism.  Algeria,  in  the  early  days  of  tlie 
French  occupation,  saw  arise  every  spring  inspired 
leaders,  who  declared  that  they  were  invulnerable  and 
were  sent  by  God  to  drive  out  the  unbelievers ; the 
next  year  their  death  was  forgotten,  and  iheir  succes- 
sor found  no  weaker  faith.  Yery  severe  in  one  res* 
pect,  the  Roman  rule,  little  given  to  intermeddling 
as  yet,  permitted  much  liberty.  These  great  brutal 
dominations,  terrible  in  repression,  were  not  suspicious 
like  those  powers  which  have  a dogma  to  preserve. 
They  let  all  things  move  on  until  they  deemed  the  day 
come  for  rigorous  action.  In  his  wayfaring  life,  we 
do  not  see  that  Jesus  was  ever  interfered  with  by  the 
authorities.  Such  freedom  and  above  all  the  good-for- 
tune of  Galilee  in  being  much  less  closely  bound  in 
the  bonds  of  Pharisaic  pedantry,  gave  to  that  country 
a great  superiority  over  Jerusalem.  The  revolution, 
or  in  other  words  Messianism,  set  all  wits  at  work. 
They  believed  that  they  were  on  the  eve  of  seeing  the 
great  renewal  appear ; Scripture  tortured  in  various 
ways  served  to  feed  the  most  colossal  expectations.  In 
each  line  of  the  simple  writings  of  the  Old  Testament 
they  saw  the  assurance  and  in  some  sort  the  programme 
of  the  future  reign  which  should  bring  peace  to  the  just 
and  seal  forever  the  work  of  God. 

At  all  times,  this  division  into  two  parties,  opposite 
in  interest  and  in  spirit,  had  been  to  the  Hebiaic  na* 
tion  an  element  of  fruitfulness  in  the  moral  order. 
E^ery  people  called  to  high  destinies  must  be  a little 
woild  complete,  containing  within  itself  the  opposite 
poles.  Greece  presented  at  a distance  of  few  miles 
Sparta  and  Athens,  the  two  antipodes  to  a superficial 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITT. 


observer,  in  reality  rival  sisters,  each  necessary  to  thi 
other.  It  was  the  same  with  Judea.  Less  brilliant  in 
on,e  sense  than  the  development  of  Jerusalem,  that  of 
the  north  was  upon  the  whole  much  more  fruitful  ; the 
most  living  works  of  the  Jewish  people  had  alway 
come  from  thence.  A complete  absence  of  the  senti 
ment  of  nature,  resulting  in  something  withered,  nar 
row  and  tierce,  stamped  all  works  purely Hierosolymite 
with  a character  grandiose  but  sad,  arid  and  repulsive. 
With  its  solemn  doctors,  its  inspired  canonists,  its 
hypocritical  and  atrabiliary  devotees,  Jerusalem  would 
not  have  conquered  humanity.  The  north  gave  to  the 
world  the  artless  Shulamite,  the  humble  Canaanite.  the 
impassioned  Magdalen,  the  good  Ibster-father  Joseph, 
the  Yirgin  Mary.  The  north  alone  formed  Christian- 
ity ; Jerusalem,  on  the  contrary,  is  the  real  country 
of  that  obstinate  Judaism  which,  founded  by  the 
Pharisees  and  fixed  by  the  Talmud,  has  crossed  the 
middle  ages  and  finally  reached  us. 

A transporting  nature  contributed  to  form  this 
spirit,  so  much  less  austere,  less  bitterly  monotheistic, 
if  I may  use  the  word,  which  impressed  upon  all  the 
dreams  of  Galilee  an  idyllic  and  charming  character. 
The  saddest  country  in  the  world  is  perhaps  the  region 
about  Jerusalem.  Galilee,  on  the  contrary,  was  a 
country  very  green,  and  full  of  shade  and  pleasant 
ness,  the  true  country  of  the  Canticle  of  canticles  and 
of  the  songs  of  the  well-beloved.*  During  the  two 

♦ Jos.,  «/■.,  Ill,  III,  1.  The  horrible  condition  to  which  this  country  is  re 
daced,  especially  near  Lake  Tiberias,  should  not  deceive  us.  This  land,  now 
burned  over,  was  once  a terrestrial  paradise.  The  baths  of  Tiberias,  to-day  a 
hideous  place,  were  formerly  the  finest  spot  in  Galilee  ( Jos. , Ant. , XVIII,  ii,  3). 
Josephus  {B.  J.,  Ill,  X,  8)  praises  the  fine  trees  of  the  plain  of  Genesareth* 
where  there  is  now  not  one.  Antoninus  Martyr,  towards  the  year  60Q;,  fifty 
years  before  the  Moslem  invasion,  finds  Galilee  still  covered 'with  delightfu) 
plantations,  and  compares  its  fertility  to  that  of  Egypt  {Itin.,  ^ 5). 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


97 


months  of  March  and  April  it  is  a dense  mass  ot  flow- 
ers of  an  incomparable  freshness  of  colors.  The  ani- 
mals are  small  but  extremely  gentle.  Lively  and 
graceful  turtle-doves,  blue-birds  so  sliglit  that  they 
alight  upon  a blade  of  grass  without  bending  it,  crest- 
ed larks  that  come  almost  to  the  feet  of  the  traveller 
little  brook  turtles  with  quick,  soft  eyes,  storks  of 
grave  and  modest  air,  putting  off*  all  timidity,  allow 
themselves  to  be  approached  very  closely  by  man  and 
seem  to  call  him.  In  no  place  in  the  world  do  the 
mountains  spread  out  with  more  harmony  or  inspire 
loftier  ideas.  Jesus  seems  to  have  loved  them  especi 
ally.  The  most  important  acts  of  his  divine  career 
were  performed  upon  the  mountains ; there  he  was 
best  inspired  ;*  there  he  had  secret  conferences  with 
the  ancient  prophets  and  showed  himself  to  his  disciples 
already  transfigured. f 

This  goodly  country,  now  become,  in  consequence 
of  the  enormous  impoverishment  which  Islamism  has 
eflfected  in  human  life,  so  sad,  so  distressing,  but 
where  all  that  man  could  not  destroy  still  breathes 
abandon,  gentleness  and  tenderness,  was  overflowing 
in  the  time  of  Jesus  with  gayety  and  comfort.  The 
Galileans  were  considered  energetic,  brave  and  labo- 
rio.ns.J  If  we  except  Tiberias,  built  by  Antipater  in 
honor  of  Tiberius  (towards  the  year  15)  in  the  Koman 
Btyle^ll  Galilee  had  no  large  cities.  The  country  was 
nevertheless  densely  populated,  covered  with  small 
towns  and  large  villages,  and  carefully  cultivated  in 
every  part.§  By  the  ruins  which  remain  to  us  of  its 

< Matt.,  V,  1;  XIV,  23;  Luke,  vi,  12. 

j Matt. , xvn,  1 seqq. ; Mark,  ix,  1 seqq. ; Luke,  ix,  28  seqq. 

1 Jos.,  B.  J.,  Ill,  III,  2.  U Jos  , XVIII,  II,  2;  5 J.,  II,  ix,  1:  Vita,  12,  18,  M 

k Jos.,  B J.,  Ill,  III,  2. 


6 


98 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISIIANITY. 


ancient  splendor,  we  perceive  an  agricultural  people^ 
/with  no  endowiiients  for  art,  careless  of  luxwr}^,  indif 
ferent  to  the  beauties  of  form  and  exclusively  idealist 
The  country  must  have  been  delightful  : it  abounded 
:u  springs  and  fruits  ; the  large  manors  were  sliadow 
jed  with  vines  and  fig-trees  ; the  gardens  were  clumps  oi 
lemon,  pomegranate  and  orange  trees.*  The  wine  was 
delicious,  if  we  may  judge  of  it  by  that  wliich  tlie 
Jews  still  make  at  Safed,  and  it  was  much  used.f 
This  life,  content  and  easily  satisfied,  did  not  lead  to 
the  stolid  materialism  of  our  peasantry,  the  coarse 
jovialty  of  abundant  Normandy  or  the  heavy  gayety 
of  the  Belgians.  It  became  spiritualized  in  ethereal 
dreams,  in  a sort  of  poetic  mysticism  confounding 
heaven  and  earth.  Leave  the  austere  Jolin  the  Bap« 
tist  to  his  desert  of  Judea  to  preach  penitence,  to  cry 
without  ceasing,  to  live  on  locusts  in  company  with 
the  jackals.  Why  should  the  companions  of  the  bride- 
groom fast  while  the  bride-groom  is  with  them? 
Gladness  shall  make  a portion  of  the  kingdom  of  God. 
Is  it  not  the  daughter  of  the  humble  in  heart,  of  the 
nien  of  good  will? 

The  whole  history  of  the  birth  of  Christianity  thus 
became  a delightful  pastoral.  A Messiah  at  wedding 
feasts,  the  harlot  and  the  good  Zaccheus  invited  to  his 
feasts,  the  fovinders  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven  like  a 
cortege  of  paranyrnphs:  this  is  what  Galilee  dared, 
what  she  compelled  the  world  to  accept.  Greece 
traced  in  sculpture  and  poetry  charming  pictures  of 

* We  may  judge  some  enclosures  in  the  environs  of  Nazareth.  Cf.  Ante 
niiius  Martyr  c The  aspect  of  the  great  farms  is  still  well  preserved  in  thf 
Boutheru  part  of  the  country  of  Tyre  (once  the  tribe  of  Asher).  Traces  of  th(K 
ancient  Palestinian  agriculture,  with  its  utensils  cut  in  the  rock  (threshing- 
floors,  wine-presses,  corn-bins,  troughs,  mills,  etc.),  are  met  with  also  at  e»ery 
step. 

f Matt.,  IX,  17;  xi,  19;  Mark,  ii,  22;  Luke,  v,  37;  vii,  34;  John,  ii,  3 seqq. 


I/IFE  OF  JESUS. 


99 


hinnaii  life,  l>iit  rJwuys  without  perspective  or  distant 
horizons.  Here  are  no  marble,  no  excellent  Avorkmen, 
no  exquisite  and  refined  language.  But  Galilee  cre- 
ated upon  the  giV)undwork  of  popular  imagination  tlje 
most  sublime  ideal;  for  behind  its  idyl  the  fate  of  liii 
nanity  is  decided  and  tlie  light  which  illumines  ite 
picture  is  the  sun  of  the  kingdom  of  God. 

Jesus  lived  and  grew  in  Ihis  intoxicating  medium. 
From  his  childhood,  he  went  to  Jerusalem  almoct 
every  year  to  the  feasts.”^  The  pilgrimage  was  to 
provincial  Jews  a delightful  custom.  Whole  series  of 
psalms  were  devoted  to  celebrating  the  pleasure  of 
these  familj^  journeys, f enduring  several  days,  in 
spring,  across  hills  and  valleys,  all  having  in  prospjct 
the  splendors  of  Jerusalem,  the  terrors  of  the  sacred 
courts,  the  pleasantness  of  brethren  dwelling  to- 
gether.J  The  route  which  Jesus  followed  ordinarily 
in  these  journeys  was  that  wliich  is  followed  to-day, 
by  Ginsea  and  Shechem.  I From  Shechem  to  Jerusa- 
lem it  is  very  difficult.  But  the  vicinity  of  the  old 
sanctuaries  of  Shiloh  and  Bethel,  near  which  the  road 
passes,  keeps  the  soul  aroused.  Ain-el-Uaramieh^  the 
last  station,§  is  a place  of  charming  melancholy,  and 
few  impressions  equal  that  experienced  upon  encamp- 
ing there  for  the  night.  The  valley  is  narrow  an.l 
gloomy  ; a dark  water  oozes  from  the  rocks  pierced 
with  sepulchres,  which  form  its  walls.  It  is,  I think, 
the  “Valley  of  tears,”  or  of  the  dripping  Avaters,  cele* 

Luke  ,11,41.  f Luke , ii , 42-44. 

t See  especially  Psalits  Ljcxxiv,  cxxiiand  cxxiii  (Vuig.  lxxxviii,  cxxi  and 
exxxii). 

jj  Luke,  IX,  61-53;  XVII,  11;  John,  iv,  4;  Jos.,  XX,  vi,  1;  B.J.,  II,  xii,  3 
VUa,  52.  Often,  however,  the  pilgrims  came  by  Perea  to  avoid  Samaria  whert 
they  incurred  danger.  Matt,  xix,  1;  Mark,  x,  1. 

fy  According  to  Josephus  (Vita,  52),  it  was  a three  days’ journey.  But  the 
days’ journey  from  Shechem  to  Jerusalem  had  ordinarily  to  be  cut  iu  two. 


100 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


brated  as  one  of  the  stations  by  tlie  way  in  that  de 
lightful  psalm  Lxxxiv,*^and  become  to  the  sadly  sweet 
mysticism  of  the  middle  ages,  the  emblem  of  life.  The 
next  day  in  good  time  they  will  be  at  Jeinsamm* 
inch  an  expectation,  even  at  this  day  sustains  the  car 
avail  and  renders  the  night  short  and  sleep  lignt. 

These  journeys,  in  which  the  united  nation  inter 
communicated  its  ideas,  and  which  were  nearly  always 
focuses  of  great  agitation,  put  Jesus  in  contact  with 
the  soul  of  his  people,  and  doubtless  inspired  in  him 
a lively  antipatliy  to  the  faults  of  the  ofticial  represen- 
tatives of  Judaism.  It  is  said  that  the  desert  soon  be- 
came another  school  to  him  and  that  he  made  in  it 
long  sojourns.*  But  the  God  which  he  found  there 
Vvas  not  his  own.  It  was  at  most  the  God  of  Job, 
severe  and  terrible,  rendering  an  account  to  no  man. 
Sometimes  Satan  came  to  tempt  him.  He  returned 
then  into  his  dear  Galilee,  and  found  again  his  heav 
enly  Father,  in  the  midst  of  the  green  hills,  and  the 
clear  springs,  among  the  flocks  of  children  and  women 
who,  with  joyful  soul  and  the  song  of  the  angels  in 
their  hearts,  were  awaiting  the  salvation  of  Israel. 


^ Lxxzui  accox  iiBg  to  the  Vulgate,  y.  7. 


t Luke,  IT  42;T»Jf 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


101 


CHAPTEE  y. 

riBST  APHORISMS  OF  JESUS.— HIS  IDEAS  OF  A PATHBl 

GOD  And  a pure  religion.  — FIRST  DISCIPLES. 

Joseph  died  before  tlie  public  life  of  his  son  began. 
Maiy  thus  remained  the  head  of  the  family,  and  this 
explains  why  her  son,  when  it  was  desired  to  distin- 
guish him  from  the  many  others  of  the  sam.e  name, 
was  usually  called  the  ‘‘  son  of  Mary.”*  It  seems 
that  becoming  by  the  death  of  her  husband  a stran- 
ger in  Nazareth,  she  retired  to  Oana,f  of  which  she 
may  have  been  a native.  OanaJ  was  a small  town 
eight  or  ten  miles  from  Nazareth,  at  the  foot  of  the 
mountains  which  limit  on  the  north  the  plain  of  Aso- 
chis.§  The  prospect,  less  grand  than  at  Nazareth, 
extends  over  the  whole  plain  and  is  closed  most  pic- 
turesquely by  the  mountains  of  Nazareth  and  the  hills 
of  Sephoris.  Jesus  appears  to  have  made  this  place 
his  residence  for  some  time.  There  he  probably  passed 
a portion  of  his  youth,  and  thence  came  his  first 
splendors. 

♦ This  is  the  expression  of  Mark,  vi,  3.  Cf.  Matt.,  xm,  55  Mark  does  not 
know  Joseph.  John  and  Luke,  on  the  contrary,  prefer  the  expression  “ son  ol 
Joseph.”  Luke,  iii,  23;  iv,  22;  John,  t,  45;  vi,  42. 

+ John,  II,  1;  IV,  46.  John  alone  is  informed  on  this  point. 

t I accept  as  probable  the  opinion  which  identifies  Cana  of  Galilee  with  Ka/na 
d Jelil.  Arguments  however  can  be  made  in  favor  of  Kefr-Kenna^  four  or  five 
miles  north-northeast  of  N azareth . ||  N ow  el-BvUauf. 

6 John,  II,  11;  IV,  44.  One  or  two  of  the  disciples  were  from  Cana.  John,  xvl 
ki  Matt. , X,  4‘  Mark,  iii,  8. 


102 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


He  worked  at  tlie  trade  of  his  father,  which  wai 
that  of  a carpenter.*^  This  was  no  humiliating  or  un 
welcome  circumstance.  The  Jewish  customs  de- 
manded that  the  man  devoted  to  intellectual  labors 
should  understand  some  occupation.  The  most  cele- 
brated doctors  had  trades  ;f  thus  St.  Paul,  whose  edm 
cation  had  been  so  well  cared  for,  was  a tent-maker4 
Jesus  never  married.  All  his  power  to  love  was 
transferred  to  what  he  considered  his  celestial  vocation. 
The  extremely  delicate  feeling  which  we  notice  in  him 
towards  women,  ||  never  departed  from  the  exclusive 
devotion  which  he  had  to  his  idea.  He  treated  as 
sisters,  like  Francis  d’ Assisi  and  Francis  de  Sales, 
those  women  who  were  enamoured  with  the  same 
work  as  he;  he  had  his  St.  Claires,  his  Francoises  de 
Chantal.  Only  it  is  probable  that  they  loved  him 
more  than  the  work ; he  was  undoubtedly  more  loved 
than  loving.  As  often  happens  in  very  lofty  natures, 
tenderness  of  heart  was  in  him  transformed  into  infi- 
nite sweetness,  vague  poetry,  universal  charm.  His 
relations,  intimate  and  free,  but  of  an  entirely  moral 
order,  with  women  of  equivocal  conduct  is  explained 
also  by  the  passion  which  attached  him  to  the  glory 
of  his  Father,  and  inspired  in  him  a kind  of  jeal- 
ousy of  all  beautiful  creatures  who  might  contribute 
to  it.§ 

What  was  the  progress  of  the  mind  of  Jesus  during 
Ihis  obscure  period  of  his  life?  Through  what  medi- 
iations  did  he  launch  out  into  the  prophetic  career? 
We  are  ignorant,  his  history  having  come  to  us  in  the 

• Mark,  Ti,  3;  Justin,  Dial,  cum  Tryph.^  88. 

f For  exampis,  Kabbi  lohanan  the  Shoemaker,  Rabbi  Isaac  the  BlacksmiUl 

T Acts^  XVIII,  3.  I See  hereafter  j . 157-158. 

( Luke,  VII,  37  seqq. ; John,  ly  7 seqq.;  viii,  3 seqq. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


103 


state  of  Isolated  stories  and  without  exact  chronology. 
But  the  development  of  living  products  is  everywhere 
the  same,  and  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  growth 
oi  a personality  as  mighty  as  that  of  Jesus  obeyed 
very  rigid  laws.  A lofty  idea  of  divinity,  wliich  he 
did  not  owe  to  Judaism  and  whicli  seems  to  have 
been  entirely  the  creation  of  his  great  soul,  was  the 
foundation  of  all  his  power.  Ilere  it  is  that  we  must 
most  of  all  renounce  those  ideas  with  which  we  are 
familiar  and  those  discussions  in  which  small  minds 
wear  themselves  away.  Properly  to  understand  the 
degree  of  the  piety  of  Jesus,  we  must  rid  ourselves 
of  all  that  has  intruded  itself  between  the  Gospel  and 
ourselves.  Deism  and  paganism  have  become  the  two 
poles  of  theology.  The  paltry  discussion  of  scholas- 
ticisms, the  aridity  of  soul  of  Descartes,  the  thorough 
irreligion  of  the  eighteenth  century,  by  diminishing 
God  and  in  some  sort  limiting  him  by  the  exclusion 
of  all  that  is  not  him,  stifled  in  the  breast  of  modern 
rationalism  every  fruitful  feeling  of  divinity.  If  God 
is,  indeed,  a determinate  being  without  us,  the  person 
who  believes  that  he  has  private  relations  with  God  is 
a “ visionary,”  and  as  the  physical  and  physiological 
Bciences  have  shown  us  that  every  supernatural  vision 
is  an  illusion,  the  deist  who  is  at  all  consistent  finds 
himself  beyond  the  possibility  of  comprehending  the 
great  beliefs  of  the  past.  Pantheism  on  the  otha 
hand,  by  denying  the  oivine  personality,  is  as  far  iu 
possible  from  the  living  God  of  the  ancient  religions. 
W ere  the  men  wdio  have  most  loftily  comprehended 
God^  Sakya-Mouni,  Plato,  St.  Paul,  St.  Francis  d’Assisi 
and  St.  Augustine  at  some  moments  of  his  changeful  life, 
deists  or  pantheists  ? Such  a question  has  no  meaning. 


104 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRIST!  A.NITf. 


The  physical  arid  metaphysical  proofs  of  the  existence 
of  God  to  them  would  have  had  no  interest.  They 
felt  the  divine  within  themselves.  In  the  first  rank  of 
this  grand  family  of  the  true  sons  of  God,  we  must 
place  Jesus.  Jesus  has  no  visions ; God  does  not  speak  . 
tc  him  from  without ; God  is  in  liim ; he  feels  that  he 
is  with  God,  and  he  draws  from  his  heart  what  he  saya 
of  his  Father.  He  lives  in  the  bosom  of  God  by  unin- 
terrupted communication  ; he  does  not  see  him,  but  he 
understands  him  without  need  of  thunder  and  burning 
bush  like  Moses,  of  a revealing  tempest  like  Job,  of  an 
oracle  like  the  old  Greek  sages,  of  a familiar  genius 
like  Socrates,  or  of  an  angel  Gabriel  like  Mahomet. 
Ihe  imagination  and  hallucination  of  a St.  Theresa,  for 
example,  here  go  for  nothing.  The  intoxication  of  the 
Soufi  proclaiming  himself  identical  with  God  is  also  an 
entirely  different  thing.  Jesus  never  for  a moment 
enounces  the  sacrilegious  idea  that  he  is  God.  He  be- 
lieves that  he  is  in  direct  communion  with  God  ; he  be- 
lieves himself  the  son  of  God.  The  highest  conscious- 
ness of  God  which  ever  existed  in  the  breast  of  hu- 
manity was  that  of  Jesus. 

It  is  clear,  on  the  other  hand,  that  Jesus,  setting  out 
with  such  proclivity  of  soul,  will  be  in  no  wise  a spec 
Illative  philosopher  like  Sakya-Mouni.  Nothing  is 
further  from  scliolastic  theology  than  the  gospel.*  Tlu 
speculations  of  the  Greek  Fathers  in  regard  to  the  di  , 
vine  essence  come  from  an  entirely  different  spirit.  ' 
God  conceived  immediately  as  Father,  this  is  the 

• Tne  discourses  which  the  fourth  gospel  attributes  to  Jesus  already  contain 

germ  of  theology.  But  these  discourses  being  in  contradiction  with  those  ol 
the  synoptic  gospels,  which  represent  without  any  doubt  the  primitive  Logi^ 
they  should  be  considered  as  elements  of  apostolic  history,  and  not  as  material 
for  the  life  of  Jesus. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


IH 


wliole  theology  of  Jesus.  And  that  was  not  with  him 
a theoretical  principle,  a doctrine  more  or  less  proven, 
and  which  he  sought  to  inculcate.  He  used  no  argu 
mont  with  his  disciples;*  he  exacted  from  them  no  ef 
fort  of  attention.  He  did  not  preach  his  opinions,  he 
preached  himself.  Oftentimes  the  greatest  and  most 
disinterested  souls  present,  associated  with  a high  de 
gree  of  elevation,  this  peculiarity  of  perpetual  atten- 
tion to  themselves  and  extreme  personal  susceptibility, 
which  in  general  is  peculiar  to  women. f Their  per- 
suasion that  God  is  within  them  and  is  perpetually 
caring  for  them,  is  so  strong  that  they  have  no  fear  of 
imposing  themselves  upon  others  ; with  our  reserve, 
our  respect  for  the  opinion  of  others,  which  is  a por- 
tion of  our  weakness,  they  have  nothing  to  do.  This 
exalted  personality  is  not  egotism  ; fur  such  men,  pos- 
sessed by  their  idea,  gladly  give  their  life  to  seal  theii 
work  ; it  is  the  identification  of  the  me  with  the  object 
which  it  has  embraced,  carried  to  its  last  extent.  It  ir 
pride  to  those  who  see  in  it  only  the  personal  fantasy 
of  the  founder;  it  is  the  finger  of  God  to  those  who  see. 
the  result.  The  fool  here  almost  touches  the  inspired 
man  ; only  the  fool  never  succeeds.  Hitherto  it  har 
never  been  given  to  aberration  of  mind  to  produce  a 
Berious  eifect  upon  the  progress  of  humanity. 

Jesus  undoubtedly  did  not  at  once  ro«.ch  this  lofty  ' 
affirmation  of  himself.  But  it  is  probable  that  from 
the  very  first  he  looked  to  God  in  the  relation  of  a son 
o a father.  This  is  his  great  act  of  originality  ; in 
this  he  is  in  no  wise  of  his  race.;]:  Neither  the  Jew  nor 

♦ See  Matt.,  ix,  9,  and  the  other  analogous  accounts. 

+ See,  for  example,  John,  xxi,  15  seqq. 

t The  beautiful  soul  of  Philo  met  here,  as  on  so  many  other  points,  with  that 
of  Jesus.  Deconfns.Ung.,  § 14;  De  Migr.  Ahr.,  &1;  De  somniis,  11,  §41;  De  agrii 
Noe,  § 12’  mutcUioTte  noTHMium,  § 4.  But  Philo  nas  hardly  a Jewish  mind. 


106 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


the  Moslem  have  learned  this  delightful  theology  of  love, 
Tlie  God  of  Jesus  is  not  the  hateful  master  who  kills  na 
when  he  pleases,  damns  us  when  he  pleases,  saves 
us  when  he  pleases.  The  God  of  Jesus  is  Our  Father. 
We  hear  him  when  we  listen  to  a low  whisper  wifliin 
us  which  says,  Father.”*  The  God  of  Jesus  is  not 
the  partial  despot  who  has  chosen  Israel  for  his  people 
and  protects  it  in  the  face  of  all  and  against  all.  He 
is  the  God  of  humanity.  Jesus  will  not  be  a patriot 
like  the  Maccabees,  or  a theocrat  like  Juda  the  Gau- 
lonite.  Kising  boldly  above  the  prejudices  of  his  na- 
tion, he  will  establish  the  universal  fatherhood  of  God 
The  Gaulonite  maintained  that  men  should  die  rather 
than  give  to  another  than  God  the  name  of  ‘‘master;” 
Jesus  leaves  this  name  to  whoever  chooses  to  take 
it,  and  reserves  for  God  a gentler  title.  According  to 
the  mighty  ones  of  the  earth,  to  him  the  representa- 
tives of  force,  a respect  full  of  irony,  he  founds  the  su- 
preme consolation,  the  recourse  to  the  Father  which 
each  one  has  in  heaven,  the  true  kingdom  of  God 
which  each  one  bears  in  his  heart. 

This  name  of  “kingdom  of  God”  or  “kingdom  of 
heaven  ”f  was  the  favorite  term  of  Jesus  to  express 
the  revolution  which  he  brought  into  this  world.:^ 
Like  nearly  all  the  Messianic  terms,  it  came  from  the 
Book  of  Daniel.  According  to  the  author  of  this  ex- 
fc’aordinary  book,  to  the  four  profane  empires,  destined 
to  be  destroyed,  will  succeed  a fifth  empiic,  which  will 

• Gal.,  IV,  6 

t The  word  heaven  ’’  in  the  rabbinic  language  of  this  period,  is  synonymom 
with  the  name  of  “ God,”  which  they  avoided  saying.  Comp.  Matt,  xxi,  -25, 
Luke,  XV,  18;  xx,  4. 

t This  expression  recurs  on  every  page  of  the  synoptic  evangelists,  of  the  Act^ 
of  the  Apostles,  and  of  St  Paul.  If  it  appears  but  once  in  St.  John,  (iii,  3 and 
5) , it  is  because  the  discourses  reported  by  the  lV»urth  cTungelist  are  far  from  ra 
presenting  the  real  words  of  Jesus. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


107 


be  that  of  the  saints  and  wliich  wdl  endure  forever.^ 
This  reign  of  God  upon  tli$  earth  naturally  received 
the  most  diverse  interpretations.  In  the  Jewisli  the- 
ology, the  ‘‘kingdom  of  God”  is  usually  nothing  but 
Judaism  itself,  the  true  religion,  the  monotheistic  wor 
ship,  piety. f During  the  latter  portion  of  his  life, 
Jesus  believed  that  this  reign  was  to  be  realized  ma- 
terially  by  a speedy  renewal  of  the  world.  But  this 
undoubtedly  was  not  his  first  thought.;!:  The  admira* 

ble  moial  which  he  draws  from  the  idea  of  this  father 
God  is  not  that  of  enthusiasts  who  believe  the  world 
near  its  end,  and  who  are  preparing  by  ascetism  for  a 
chimerical  catastrophe  ; it  is  that  of  a world  which 
desires  to  live  and  which  has  lived.  “ The  kingdom 
of  God  is  within  you,”  said  he  to  those  who  subtly 
asked  for  external  signs. ||  The  material  conception  of 
the  divine  advent  was  only  a cloud,  a passing  error 
which  death  consigned  to  oblivion.  The  Jesus  who 
founded  the  real  kingdom  of  God,  the  kingdom  of  the 
meek  and  lowly,  this  is  the  Jesus  of  the  earlier  days,§ 
days  chaste  and  without  alloy,  when  the  voice  of  his 
Father  resounded  in  his  heart  with  a purer  tone. 
There  were  then  some  months,  perhaps  a year,  during 
which  God  really  lived  upon  the  earth.  The  voice  of 
the  young  carpenter  suddenly  assumed  extraordinary 
sweetness.  Infinite  charm  exhaled  fi  om  his  person,  and 
the  companions  of  his  youth  no  longer  recognized  him.^ 

♦ Dan.,  II;  44;  vii,  13, 14,  22,  27. 

+ Mischna,  Berakoth,  ii,  1,  3;  Talmud  of  Jerus.,  ii,  2;  Kidduschin^  1,  % 

2 almiid  of  Dab.,  JJemAcf  A,  15  a;  Mekiliay  42  b;  Siphra,  170  6.  The  expression  C4 
eurs  often  in  the  Midraschim. 

1 Matt. , VI,  33;  xii,  28;  xix,  12;  Mark,  xii,  34;  Luke,  xii,  31. 

J Luke,  xvii, '20-21. 

^ The  grand  theory  of  the  apocalypse  of  the  Son  of  man  is  in  fact  reserved,  in 
the  synoptics,  until  the  chapter  preceding  the  story  of  the  paseiou.  The  flnl 
teachings  especially  in  Matthew  are  entirely  moral.  ^ 

% Mau.,  XIII,  54  seqq. ; Mark,  vx,  2 seqq. ; John,  vi,  42 


108 


ORIGIKS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


lie  had  yet  no  disciples,  and  the  throng  which 
pressed  around  him  was  nejtlier  a sect  nor  a school ; 
but  they  felt  already  a common  spirit,  something  gen 
tie  and  penetrating.  ‘ His  lovely  character,  and  doubt- 
joss  one  of  those  transporting  countenances*  'which 
Bometimes  appear  in  the  Jewish  race,  created  around 
him  a circle  ot*  fascination  which  hardly  any,  among 
this  friendly  and  artless  people,  could  resist. 

Paradise  had  been,  indeed,  transported  upon  earth, 
had  not  the  ideas  of  the  young  master  too  widely  over- 
stepped the  level  of  common  goodness,  above  which 
the  human  race  has  hitherto  been  incapable  of  being 
elevated.  The  brotherhood  of  men,  sons  of  God,  and 
the  moral  consequences  which  result  from  this,  were 
deduced  with  an  exquisite  sentiment.  Like  all  the 
rabbis  of  the  time,  Jesus,  little  given  to  consecutive 
reasonings,  compressed  his  doctrine  into  aphoidsms 
concise  and  of  an  expressive  form,  sometimes  strange 
and  enigmatical. t Some  of  these  m ixims  come  from 
the  books  of  the  Old  Testament.  Others  were  the 
thoughts  ofmore  modern  sages,  especially  of  Antigo- 
nus  of  Soco,  Jesus,  the  son  of  Sirach,  and  Hillel, 
which  were  known  to  him,  not  through  learned  studies, 
but  as  proverbs  often  repeated.  The  synagogues  were 
rich  in  maxims  very  happily  expressed,  which  formed 
H sort  of  current  proverb  literature.:}:  Jesus  adopted 

i:eaily  all  this  oral  instruction,  infusing  into  it  a loftier 
ineaning.li  Increasing  ordinarily  upon  the  duties  de* 

♦ Tlie  tradition  of  the  ugliness  of  Jesus  (Justin,  Dial,  cum  Trypfi.y  85,  88, 100) 
omes  from  the  desire  to  find  realized  in  him  a pretended  Messianic  trait  (Isaiai 
nil,  2). 

f The  Logia  of  St.  Matthew  piece  together  many  of  these  axioms,  to  make  grand 
discourses:  But  the  fragmentary  form  is  perceptible  in  the.  seams. 

t The  sentences  of  learned  J ews  of  the  time  are  collected  in  the  little  book  en» 
titled:  Pirke  Abofh. 

I The  comparisons  will  be  made  hereafter  as  they  present  themselves.  It  if 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


109 


dared  by  tlie  Law  and  the  elders,  he  demanded  per 
fection.  All  the  virtues  of  humility,  of  forgiveness,  of 
charity,  of  abnegation,  of  severity  to  self,  virtues  wMo'i 
are  rightly  named  Christian,  if  by  that  is  meant  that 
hey  were  really  preached  by  Christ,  were  in  germ  in 
these  first  teachings.  For  justice,  he  contented  him 
self  with  repeating  the  well  known  axiom,  “Do  not  to 
others  that  which  ye  would  not  that  they  should  do 
unto  you.’’*  But  this  ancient  wisdom,  which  was  still 
somewhat  selfish,  was  not  enough  for  him.  He  went 
far  beyond  : 

“ Whosoever  shall  smite  thee  on  thy  right  cheek, 
turn  to  him  the  other  also.  And  if  any  man  sue  thee 
at  the  law,  and  take  away  thy  coat,  let  him  have  thy 
cloak  also.”f 

“ If  thy  right  eye  oftend  thee,  pluck  it  out,  and  cast 
it  from  thee.”:!: 

Love  your  enemies ; do  good  to  them  that  hate  you ; 
pray  for  them  that  persecute  you.”|| 

“Judge  not  that  ye  be  not  judged.§  Forgive  and 
ye  shall  be  forgiven.^  Be  ye  merciful  as  your  Father 
if  heaven  is  merciful.**  It  is  more  blessed  to  give 
than  to  receive. ”ff 

sometimes  supposed  that  the  compilation  of  the  Talmud  being  posterior  to  that 
of  the  Gospels,  appropriations  might  have  been  made  by  the  Jewish  compilers 
from  the  Christian  morality.  But  that  is  inadmissible;  there  was  a wall  of  sep- 
aration between  the  church  and  the  synagogue.  Christian  literature  and  Jewish 
literature  had  before  the  xiiith  century,  scarcely  any  influence  upon  each 
Bther. 

* Matt.  VII,  12;  Luke,  vi,  31.  This  axiom  was  already  in  the  book  orTobii(  it 
l^S.  Hillel  made  use  of  it  habitually  (Talm.  of  Bab.,  ScJiabbath^  31  a),  and  ds 
iWed  like  Jesus  that  it  was  the  epitome  of  the  Law. 

■t  Matt.,  V,  39  seqq. ; Luke,  vi,  29.  Comp.  Jeremiah,  in,  30. 
i Matt.,  V,  29-30;  xviii,  9;  Mark,  ix,  46. 

5 Matt  . V,  44;  Luke,  vi,  27  Comp.  Talm.  of  Bab.  ScTidbbath,  88  b;  Joma,  23  a, 
i Matt.,  vii,  1;  Luke^  vi,  37.  Comp  Talm.  of  Bab.  Kethuboth,  105  b. 

^ Luke,  VI, 37.  Coinp.  Levity  xix,  18;  Pror.,  xx,  2,2\  Ecclesiastes^  XXTm,  f 
e©qq. 

Luke,  VI.  36;  Siphre,  51  b (Sultzbach,  1802) 
tt  A saying  reported  in  the  Acts,  xx,  35. 


110 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


‘^Whosoever  exalteth  himself  shall  be  abased  ; and 
he  that  humbleth  himself  shall  be  exalted.”* 

Concerning  alms,  pity,  good  works,  gentleness,  the 
desire  of  peace,  complete  disinterestedness  of  heart,  he 
had  ittle  to  add  to  the  doctrines  of  the  synagogue/f 
But  he  gave  to  them  an  accent  full  of  unction,  whicla 
made  new  aphorisms  uttered  long  before.  Morality 
is  not  composed  of  principles  more  or  less  well  ex- 
pressed. Tlie  poetry  of  the  precept,  which  makes  it 
lovely,  is  more  than  the  precept  itself,  taken  as  an  ab- 
stract verity.  Now,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  the  max- 
ims borrowed  by  Jesus  from  his  predecessors,  produce, 
in  the  gospel,  an  effect  totally  different  from  that  in 
the  ancient  Law,  in  the  Pirke  Aboth^  or  in  the  Tal- 
mud. It  is  not  the  ancient  Law,  it  is  not  the  Talmud, 
which  has  conquered  and  changed  the  world.  Little 
original  in  itself,  if  by  that  is  meant  that  it  can  be  re- 
composed almost  entirely  with  more  ancient  maxims, 
the  evangelical  morality  remains  none  the  less  the 
highest  creation  which  has  emanated  from  the  human 
conscience,  the  most  beautiful  code  of  perfect  life  that 
any  moralist  has  traced. 

He  did  not  speak  against  the  Mosaic  law,  but  it  is 
clear  that  he  saw  its  insufficiency,  and  allowed  it  to  be 
understood.  He  constantly  repeated  that  it  was  ne- 
cessary lo  do  more  than  the  ancient  sages  had  said.:f 
:f  He  prohibited  the  least  harsh  word;|  he  forbade  dh 
vorce§  and  all  oaths  he  blamed  retaliation;**  lie 

’»  Matt,  XXIII,  1 "5  Luke  XIV,  11;  xvin,  14.  The  sayings  reported  by  St  Je- 
roiue  from  the  “ Gospel  according  to  the  Hebrews”  (Comment.  \o.Epist  odEphes.^ 
V,  4;  in  Ezek. , xviii;  D.ial.  adv.  Pelag  , ill,  2) , are  marked  by  the  swne  spirit 
f beut. , XXIV, XXV,  xxvi',  etc. , Is. , lviii,  1-,Prov.j  xix,  17  ]PirI^  Talmud 

of  Jerusalem,  Peah.  i,  1;  Talmud  of  Babylon,  Schabhathy  63  a. 

t Matt , V,  20  seqq.  ||  Matt , v,  22. 

\ Matt.,  V,  31  seqq.  Compare  Talm.  of  Bab  , Sanhedrin,  22  a. 

\ Matt, , V,  33  seqq.  ♦*  Matt , v,  38  se qq. 


IIFE  OF  JESUS. 


Ill 


condemned  usury  ;*  he  declared  voluptuous  desire  aa 
criminal  as  adnlterv.f  He  desired  universal  forgive* 
ness  of  injuries.:!;  The  motive  with  which  he  enforced 
these  maxims  of  lofty  charity  was  always  the  same  : — 
*‘That  ye  may  be  the  children  of  your  Father  which  ‘ 
m heaven;  for  he  maketh  his  sun  to  rise  on  the  evil 
ar.d  on  the  good.  If  ye  love,”  added  he,  ‘‘  them  only 
which  love  you,  what  reward  have  ye  ? do  not  even 
the  publicans  the  same?  And  if  ye  salute  your  breth- 
ren only,  what  is  that?  do  not  the  heathen  the  samel 
Be  ye  perfect,  as  your  Father  in  heaven  is  perfect.”! 

A pure  worship,  a religion  without  priests  and  with- 
out external  practices,  reposing  entirely  upon  the  feel- 
ings of  the  heart,  upon  the  imitation  of  God,§  upon 
the  immediate  communion  of  the  conscience  with  the 
heavenly  Father,  were  the  result  of  these  principles. 
Jesus  never  recoiled  before  that  bold  deduction  which 
made  of  him,  in  the  bosom  of  Judaism,  a revolutionist 
of  the  highest  stamp.  Wherefore  mediators  between 
man  and  his  Father?  God  seeing  only  the  heart,  of 
what  use  these  purifications,  these  .rites,  which  reach 
only  the  body?^  Tradition  itself,  a thing  so  holy  to 
the  Jew,  is  nothing  compared  with  pure  feeling.**  Tha 
hypocrisy  of  the  Pharisees,  who  in  praying  turned 
their  heads  to  see  if  anyone  were  looking,  who  gave 
their  alms  with  ostentation,  and  put  upon  their  dress 
•signs  which  made  them  known  as  pious  persons,  al 
these  aflectations  of  false  devotion  were  revolting 

* Matt.,  V,  42.  The  Law  forbade  it  also  (Deut,  xy,  7-8),  but  less  formal ’y 
tud  usage  authorised  it  (Luke,  vii,  4l  seqq.). 

t Matt.,  XXVII,  28.  Compare  Talmud,  Masseket-KdRa  (edit.  Furth,  1793),  foi 
B4  6. 

t Matt.,  V,  23  seqq.  ||  Matt.,  v,  45  seqq.  Compare  Leu.,  xi,  44. 

ft  Compare  Philo,  De  migr.  Air.,  § 23  and  24;  De  vita  contemplativa,  entire. 

\ Matt,  XV,  11  seqq.  • Mark,  vii,  6 seqq.  ♦*  Mark,  vu,  6 leqq. 


112 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


him.*^  ‘^They  have  their  reward,”  said  he;  “but 
when  tliou  doest  alms,  let  not  thv  left  hand  know  what 
thy  right  hand  doeth ; that  thine  alms  may  be  in  se 
cret:  and  thy  Father  which  seeth  in  secret,  himself 
ghall  reward  thee  openly.  And  when  thou  pravest^ 
thou  shalt  not  be  as  the  hypocrites  are  : for  they  love 
to  pray  standing  in  the  synagogues,  and  in  the  corners 
of  the  streets,  that  they  may  be  seen  of  men.  Verily, 
I say  unto  you,  they  have  their  reward.  But  thou, 
when  thou  prayest,  enter  into  thy  closet,  and  when 
thou  hast  shut  thy  door,  pray  to  thy  Father  which  is  in 
secret ; and  thy  Father  which  seeth  in  secret,  shall  re- 
ward thee  openly.  But  when  ye  pray,  use  not  vain 
repetitions,  as  the  heathen  do  : for  they  think  that  they 
shall  be  heard  for  their  much  speaking.  Be  not  ye 
therefore  like  unto  them:  for  your  Father  knoweth 
what  things  ye  have  need  of  before  ye  ask  him.”f 
He  affected  no  external  sign  of  asceticism,  content- 
ing himself  with  praying  or  rather  meditating  upon  the 
mountains  and  in  solitary  places,  where  man  has  al- 
ways sought  God.:]:  This  lofty  idea  of  the  communion 

of  man  with  God,  of  which  so  few  souls,  even  after  him, 
were  to  be  capable,  was  condensed  into  a prayer,  which 
he  thenceforth  taught  to  his  disciples  :| 

“ Our  Father  who  art  in  heaven,  hallowed  be  thy 
name.  Thy  kingdom  come.  Thy  will  be  done  on 
earth  as  it  is  in  heaven.  Give  us  this  day  our  daily 
.#read.  And  forgive  us  our  trespasses  as  we  forgive 
hose  who  have  trespassed  against  us.  Lead  us  not  in 

♦ Mitt , VI,  1 seqq.  Compare  JBfccZesiasf6S,xvii,  18;  xxix,  15;  Talm.  of  BaU 
CKagiga,  5 a;  Baba  Bathm  9 b. 

+ Matt , VI,  2-8  % Matt.,  xiv,  23;  Luke,  iv,42,  v,  16;  vi,  W 

j]  Matt.,  VI,  9 seqq.;  Luke  xi,  2 seqq. 


UFE  OF  JESUS. 


113 


to  temptation  ; but  deliver  ns  from  the  Evil  One.”* 
He  insisted  particularly  upon  this  idea  that  our  hear- 
enly  Father  knows  better  than  we  what  .we  need,  and 
that  we  almost  insult  him  in  asking  for  a definite 
♦hing.f 

Jesus^  in  this,  did  nothing  more  than  to  deduce  the 
consequences  of  the  great  principles  which  Judaism 
had  established,  but  which  the  official  classes  of  the 
nation  tended  more  and  more  to  disown.  The  Greek 
and  Roman  prayer  was  almost  always  a mass  of  ver- 
biage full  of  egotism.  Never  had  pagan  priest  said  to 
the  faithful : “ If  thou  bring  thy  gift  to  the  altar,  and 
there  rememberest  that  thy  brother  hath  aught  against 
thee;  leave  there  thy  gift  before  the  altar,  and  go  thy 
way;  first  be  reconciled  to  thy  brother,  and  then  come 
and  offer  thy  gift.”;];  Alone  in  antiquity,  the  Jewish 
prophets,  Isaiah  especially,  in  their  antipathy  to  the 
priesthood,  had  seen  the  true  nature  of  the  worship 
which  man  owes  to  God.  To  what  purpose  is  the 
multitude  of  your  sacrifices  ? I am  full  of  the  burnt 
offerings  of  rams,  and  the  fat  of  fed  beasts;  incense  is 
an  abomination  unto  me  ; for  your  hands  are  full 
blood.  Make  clean  your  thoughts  ; cease  to  do  evil ; 
learn  to  do  well;  seek  justice,  and  come  then.”|  In 
the  latter  days,  some  teachers,  Simeon  the  Just,§  Je- 
sus, son  of  Sirach,T  and  Hillel,**  almost  reached  the 
goal,  and  declared  that  the  sum  of  the  Law  was  jus- 
tice. Philo,  in  the  Judaic-Egyptian  world,  attained 
Bt  the  same  time  with  Jesus  to  ideas  of  a high  moral 

• That  is  to  say  from  the  devil.  f Luke,  xi,  6 seqq  J Matt.,  v 23-24. 

I Isaiah,  i,ll seqq.  Compare  i&id.,  lviii  entire; Hosea,  vi,  6;  Malachi,  i,  10 seqf 

’ I,  2.  ^ Ecclesiastes^  xxxv,  1 seqq. 

♦*  Talm.  of  Jerus. , Pesa:hun,  vi,  1 ; Talm  of  Bab. , same  treatise,  66  a;Schabbath 

Ei  a. 


114 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


holiiioss,  tlie  consequence  of  which  was  little  regard 
for  the  rites  of  the  Law.*  Schernaia  and  Abtalion, 
more  than  once,  showed  that  they  also  were  very  libo^ 
ral  casuists.f  Rabbi  lohanan  soon  came  to  place 
works  of  mercy  above  even  the  study  of  the  Law. 

‘ Jesus  alone,  nevertheless,  said  it  in  an  effective  man 
0er.  Never  was  any  man  less  a priest  than  Jesus, 
never  more  an  enemy  of  the  forms  which  stifle  religion 
under  the  pretext  of  preserving  it.  By  that,  we  are 
all  his  disciples  and  his  continuators ; by  that  he  has 
laid  an  eternal  rock,  the  corner-stone  of  true  religion, 
and,  if  religion  be  the  one  tiling  needful  to  humanity, 
by  that  he  has  earned  the  divine  rank  which  has  been 
assigned  to  him.  An  idea  absolutely  new,  the  idea  of 
a worship  founded  upon  purity  of  heart  and  human 
fraternity,  made  through  him  its  entrance  into  the 
world,  an  idea  so  elevated  that  the  Christian  church 
was  upon  this  point  completely  to  betray  his  inten- 
tions, and  that,  in  our  days,  but  few  souls  are  capable 
of  comprehending  it. 

An  exquisite  perception  of  nature  furnished  him 
at  all  times  with  expressive  images.  Sometimes  a re 
markable  penetration,  what  we  call  genius,  set  off  his 
aphorisms;  at  others,  their  vivid  form  was  due  to  the 
happy  employment  of  popular  proverbs.  How  canst 
thou  say  to  thy  brother,  ^ Let  me  pull  out  the  mote 
out  of  thine  eye and,  behold,  a beam  is  in  thine  own 
eye?  Thou  hypocrite,  first  cast  out  the  beam  out  of 
tliine  own  eye ; and  then  shalt  thou  see  clearly  to  cast 
out  the  mote  out  of  thy  brother’s  eye.”j 

♦ Quod  Deusimmut. , § 1 and  2;  De  Ahrahamo^  § 22;  Quis  rerum  divin  \ceres,  ^ II 
leqq. ; 55,  58  seqq. ; Deprofugis^  ^ 7 and  8 ; Quod  omnis probus  liber , entire:  De  vita  cott 
iemfiativa,  entire. 

t Talm.  de  Bab.,  PesacMm,  67  6.  % Talmud  of  Jerusalem,  Peak,  i,  1. 

Matt , VII , 4-5.  Compare  Talmud  of  Babylon,  Bcdxi  BathrUf  15  b;  Erachint  16  ft 


LITE  OF  JESUS. 


115 


These  lessons,  long  time  shut  up  in  the  heart  of  the 
y umg  master,  had  gathered  already  a few  converts. 
The  spirit  of  the  day  was  towards  small  churches;  it 
was  the  time  of  the  Essenes  or  Therapeutes.  Rabbis, 
each  with  his  doctrine,  Schemaia,  Abtalion,  Hillel^ 
Schammai,  Juda  the  Gaulonite,  Gamaliel,  and  many 
others.^  of  whose  maxims  the  Talmud  * is  composed, 
appeared  on  all  sides.  They  wrote  very  little.  The 
Jewish  teachers  of  that  day  did  not  make  books  ; ev 
eiy thing  passed  in  conversation  and  in  public  lessons, 
to  which  they  sought  to  give  a character  easy  of  re- 
teation.f  On  the  day  when  the  ^mung  carpenter  of 
Nazareth  began  to  produce  in  public  these  maxims, 
for  the  most  part  already  known,  but  which,  thanks  to 
him,  were  to  regenerate  the  world,  it  was  not,  then, 
an  event.  It  was  one  rabbi  the  more  (true,  the  most 
charming  of  all),  and  around  him  a few  young  men 
eager  to  hear  him  and  seeking  the  unknown.  Time  is 
required  to  compel  the  attention  of  men.  There  were 
yet  no  Christians  ; true  Christianity,  nevertheless,  was 
founded,  and  never  doubtless  was  it  more  perfect  than 
at  this  first  moment.  Jesus  will  add  to  it  nothing 
more  that  will  be  durable.  What  do  I say?  In  one 
sense,  he  will  compromise  it ; for  every  idea  in  order 
to  succeed,  must  needs  make  sacrifices ; none  comes 
immaculate  out  of  the  struggle  of  life. 

To  conceive  the  truth,  indeed,  is  not  enough ; it  is 
needful  to  give  it  success  among  men.  For  that,  ways 
less  pure  are  necessary.  Indeed,  were  the  gospel  con- 
fined to  a few  chapters  of  Matthew  and  Luke,  it  would 
be  more  perfect,  and  would  not  now  give  rise  to  so 

* See  especially  Firke  Aboth,  cL.  i, 

I The  Talmud,  a summary  of  thi^  vast  movement  of  the  schools  hardly  begai 
to  he  written  until  the  second  century  of  our  era. 


il6 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


many  objections;  but  without  miracles  would  it  hava 
converted  the  world?  Had  Jesus  died  at  the  period 
which  we  have  reached  in  his  career,  there  would  have 
been  in  his  life  no  page  which  wounds  us  ; but,  grander 
in  the  eyes  of  God,  he  would  have  remained  unknown 
of  men ; he  would  be  lost  in  the  multitude  of  great 
unknown  souls,  the  best  of  all ; the  truth  would  not 
have  been  promulgated,  and  the  world  had  not  profit- 
ed by  the  immense  moral  superiority  which  his  Father 
had  imparted  to  him.  Jesus,  son  of  Sirach,  and  Hillel 
had  enunciated  aphorisms  almost  as  lofty  as  those  ol 
Jesus.  Hillel,  however,  will  never  be  considered  the  real 
founder  of  Christianity.  In  morality,  as  in  art,  words 
are  nothing,  deeds  are  everything.  The  idea  which  is 
concealed  beneath  a picture  of  Raphael  is  a small  thing ; 
it  is  the  picture  alone  that  counts.  Likewise,  in  mo- 
rality, truth  becomes  of  value  only  if  it  pass  to  the 
condition  of  feeling,  and  it  attains-all  its  preciousness 
only  when  it  is  realized  in  the  world  as  a fact.  Men 
of  indifferent  morals  have  written  very  good  maxims. 
Men  very  virtuous,  also,  have  done  nothing  to  continue 
the  tradition  of  their  virtue  in  the  world.  The  palm 
belongs  to  him  who  has  been  mighty  in  word  and  in 
work,  who  has  felt  the  truth,  and,  at  the  price  of 
his  blood,  has  made  it  triumph.  Jesus,  from  thii 
double  point  of  view,  is  without  equal ; his  glory  re' 
mains  complete,  and  will  be  renewed  forever.  f 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


117 


CHAPTEE  VI. 

IJHir  fHE  BAPTIST -J  OFRNET  OP  JESUS  TO  J^HK  AHD 
HIS  SOJOURN  IN  THB  DESERT  OP  J U D B A . — A D 0 P T 8 
THBBAPTISMOFJOHH, 


Ak  extraordinary  raan,  whose  work,  in  the  absence 
of  documents,  remains  to  us  in  part  enigmatical,  ap- 
peared about  this  time  and  certainly  had  relations  with 
Jesus.  These  relations  rather  tended  to  make  the 
young  prophet  of  iTazareth  deviate  from  his  way ; but 
they  suggested  to  him  many  important  accessories  of 
his  religious  institution,  and  at  all  events,  they  fur- 
nished his  disciples  with  a very  strong  authority  to  re- 
commend their  master  in  the  eyes  of  a certain  class 
of  Jews. 

Towards  the  year  28  of  our  era  (the  fifteenth  year 
3f  the  reign  of  Tiberius),  there  passed  through  Pales- 
tine, the  fame  of  a certain  lohanan  or  John,  a young 
ascetic  full  of  ardor  and  of  passion.  John  was  o! 
priestly  race,*  born  probably,  at  Jutta  nearilebron  or 
at  ilebi  on  itself.')'  Hebron,  beyond  all  others  the  patri- 

♦Luke,  1,6;  a passage  of  the  Gospel  of  the  Ebionim  preserved  hy  Epiphaniua 
(Adu.  JlCBT  , XXX,  13). 

t Luke,  I,  31.  It  has  been  proposed  with  some  veri-similitude,  to  regard  “ the 
city  of  Juda’’  named  in  this  passage  ol  Luke  the  city  of  Jutta  (Joshua,  xv,  56 
XXI,  16.  Robinson  (Biblical  Researches,  I,  494;  II,  206)  found  this  t,\/Ua  still  beav 
(ng  the  same  name,  six  or  eight  miles  south  of  Hebron. 


113 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


archal  city,  situated  on  the  borders  of  the  desert  of 
Judea,  and  within  a few  hours’  travel  of  the  great 
desert  ot  Arabia,  was  at  that  time  what  it  is  to-day, 
one  of  the  bulwarks  of  the  Semitic  spirit  in  its  most 
austere  form.  From  his  infancy  John  was  Nazir^  that 
is  to  say  devoted  by  vow  to  certain  abstinences.*  The 
desert  by  which  he  was,  as  it  were,  environed,  soon  at- 
tracted him.f  He  led  in  it  the  life  of  an  Indian  yogui 
clad  in  skins  or  in  stuff  of  camel’s  hair  and  having  nc 
food  but  locusts  and  wild  honey.;]:  A certain  number 

of  disciples  were  gathered  about  him,  sharing  his  life 
and  meditating  upon  his  severe  words.  One  might 
have  believed  himself  transported  to  the  banks  of  the 
Ganges,  if  certain  peculiar  traits  had  not  revealed  in 
thi^recluse,  the  last  descendant  of  the  greatest  proph- 
et of  Israel. 

Since  the  Jewish  nation  had  been  seized  by  a 
species  of  despair  in  reflecting  upon  its  destiny,  the 
imagination  of  the  people  had  turned  again  with  much 
comfort  towards  the  ancient  prophets.  How,  of  all 
the  personages  of  the  past,  whose  memory  came  like 
the  dreams  of  a troubled  night  to  arouse  and  agitate 
the  people,  the  grandest  was  Elias.  This  giant  of  the 
prophets,  in  his  rugged  solitude  of  Carmel,  sharing 
the  life  of  wild  beasts,  living  in  the  caves  of  the  rocks, 
whence  he  emerged  like  a thunderbolt  to  make  and 
unmake  kings,  had  become  by  successive  transforma- 
tions a superhuman  being,  sometimes  visible,  somc-^ 
ti  mes  invisible,  who  had  not  tasted  death.  It  was  gener- 
ally  believed  that  Elias  was  to  come  and  restore  Israel.} 

♦ Luke,  1, 15.  t Luke,  i,  80. 

X Matt.,  HI,  4;  Mark,  i,  6;  fragm.  of  the  gospel  of  the  Ebionim  in  Epiph.,  Adv: 
Ikcr.,  XXX,  13. 

H Malachi,  in,  23-24  (iv,  5-6  according  to  the  Vulgate) ; EcceZmosi6«,XLViii,10 
Matt.,  XVI,  14;  xviijlOseqq;  Mark,  vi,  15;  viii,  28;  ix,  lOseqq.;  Luke,  ix,  8,  Id 
John,  I,  21,  25 • 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


119 


Tlie  austere  life  which  he  Lad  led,  the  terrible  me 
raeiitos  that  he  had  left,  under  the  impression  of 
which  the  East  yet  lives,*  that  gloomy  image  which, 
even  in  our  days,  causes  trembling  and  destruction  ; 
all  this  mythology  full  of  vengance  and  terrors,  pro™ 
duced  a vivid  and  striking  impression  upon  all  minds 
and  placed,  in  some  sort,  a birth-mark  upon  all  the 
products  of  the  throes  of  the  people.  Whoever  aspired 
to  a great  deed  among  the  people  must  imitate  Elias, 
and  as  solitary  life  had  been  the  essential  peculiarity 
of  this  prophet,  the  masses  had  become  accustomed  to 
look  upon  ‘‘  the  man  of  God  ’’  as  a hermit.  They  im- 
agined that  all  the  hol}^  personages  had  their  days  of 
penitence,  of  severe  life,  and  of  austerities.f  The  re- 
treat  to  the  desert  became  thus  the  condition  and  the 
prelude  of  high  destinies. 

Doubtless  this  thought  of  imitation  had  greatly  oc- 
cupied John.:}:  Anchoretic  life,  so  opposite  to  the  spirit 
of  the  ancient  Jewish  people,  and  with  which  vows  of 
the  kind  taken  by  the  Nazirs  and  the  Rechabites  had 
nothing  in  common,  invaded  Judea  on  all  sides.  The  Es- 
senes  or  Therapeutes  were  established  near  the  country 
of  John,  upon  the  eastern  borders  of  the  Dead  Sea.| 
It  was  readily  conceived  that  the  leaders  of  sects  must 
be  recluses,  having  their  peculiar  rules  and  their  insti- 
tutes, like  the  founders  of  religious  orders.  Tlie  mas- 
ters of  the  youth  were  also  at  times  a species  of  an« 
?hoiites§  closely  resembling  the  ffouroua^  of  Brah* 

♦ The  ferocious^ Abdallah,  Pasha  of  St.  Jean  d’Acre,  thought  to  have  died 
f Iright  from  having  seen  him  standing  erect  on  the  mountain.  In  1 he  picturei 
of  the  Christian  churches,  he  is  s en  surrounded  with  cut-oflf  heads.  The  Mo# 
lems  fear  him. 

! Ascension  d'lsaie^  ii,  9-11.  $ Luke,  i,  17 

Pliny  Nai.  Hist.,  V,  17;  Bpiph.  Adv  hcer.  xu,  1 and  2. 

Josephus,  rito,  2.  H Spiritual  preceptors. 


120 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


minism.  Indeed  was  there  not  in  this  a remote  infln 
ence  of  the  mounis  of  India  ? Had  not  some  of  thi 
wandering  Buddhist  monks,  who  overran  the  world 
as,  at  a later  period  did  the  first  Franciscans,  preach- 
ing  by  their  edifying  exterior  life  and  converting 
people  who  did  not  know  their  language,  turned  theii 
ateps  in  the  direction  of  Judea,  as  they  certainly  had 
in  that  of  Syria  and  of  Babylon  We  know  not.  Bab-* 
ylon  had  become  some  time  previously  a true  focus  of 
Buddhism  ; Boudasp  (Bodhisattva)  was  reputed  a Ohah 
dean  sage  and  the  founder  of  Sabianism.  And  what 
was  Sabianism%  What  its  etymology  indicates:!  hap- 
tism  itself,  that  is,  the  religion  of  frequent  baptism,  the 
foundation  of  the  sect  still  in  existence,  which  is 
called  Christians  of  St.  John  or  Mendaites,  and  which 
the  Arabs  call  el-Mogtasila^X  “ baptists,”  It  is 
very  difficult  to  follow  out  these  vague  analogies.  The 
sects  floating  between  Judaism,  Christianity,  Bap- 
tism and  Sabianism  which  we  find  in  the  region  be- 
yond Jordan  during  the  first  centuries  of  our  era,||  pre- 
sent to  the  critic,  from  the  confusion  of  the  accounts 
which  have  come  to  us,  the  most  singular  problem.  We 
may  believe,  in  any  event,  that  many  of  the  e:^ternal 
practices  of  John,  of  the  Essenes§  and  of  the  Jewish 
spiritual  preceptors  of  the  time,  came  from  a recent  in- 


* I have  developed  this  point  elsewhere  {Hist,  gener.  des  lang-aes  semitiques,  II 
IV.  Ij  Journ.  AsiaL,  fevrier-mars  1856. 

f I he  Aramaean  verb  iS'e&a,  origin  of  the  name  Sabians,  is  synonymous  wit& 

J I have  treated  of  this  at  greater  length  in  the  Journal  Asiatique  nov.-dec.  1851 
ft  aout-sept.  185  *.  It  is  remarkable  that  the  Elchasaites,  a sabian  or  baplisi 
iect.  inhabit  the  same  country  as  the  Essenes  (the  eastern  border  of  the  Dead 
Sea)  and  were  confounded  with  them  (Epiph..  Adv.  hcer.,  XIX,  1,  2,  4;  XXX,  16, 
17-1,  III,  1 and  2;  Philosophumena,  IX,  in,  15  and  16;  X,  xx,  2 <) 

j See  the  accounts  of  Epiphanius  of  the  Essenes,  the  Hemero-baptists,  tha 
Nazarenes,  the  Ossenes,  the  Nazerenes.  the  Ebionites,  the  Sampsenes  (Adn 
hcer. , books  I and  II)  and  those  of  the  author  of  the  Philosophumena  of  the  Elchft 
saites  (books  IX  and  X) . 

§ Epiph  , Adv.  Uoer.y  XIX,  XXX,  LIU 


/ 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


121 


fitveiice  of  the  upper  East.  The  fundamental  rite  which 
c’haracterized  the  sect  of  John,  and  which  gave  him 
his  name,  has  always  had  its  center  in  Lower  Chaldea, 
and  there  constirutes  a religion  which  has  been  per 
pctuated  to  our  day. 

That  rite  was  baptism  or  total  immersion.  Ablutions 
were  already  familiar  to  the  Jews,  as  they  were  to  all 
the  religions  of  the  East.*  The  Essenes  had  given  them 
a special  diffusion.*}*  Baptism  had  become  an  ordinary 
ceremony  on  the  introduction  of  proselytes  into  the 
bosom  of  the  Jewish  religion,  a sort  of  initiation.:}: 
is' ever,  however,  before  our  Baptist  had  any  one  given 
to  immersion  this  importance  or  this  form.  John  had 
established  the  theatre  of  his  work  in  that  portion  of 
the  desert  of  Judea  which  lies  near  the  Dead  Sea.f 
At  the  periods  when  he  administered  baptism,  he 
went  to  the  borders  of  tlie  «Tordan,§  either  at  Bethany  or 
Bethabara,^  on  tlie  eastern  bank,  probably  opposite  Jer- 
icho, or  at  the  p;ace  called  ^non  or  the  Fountains  ’^** 
near  Salim,  where  there  was  much  water. ff  Thither, 
large  numbers,  especiallj"  of  the  tribe  of  Judah, 

* Mark,  vii,  4;  Jos.,  Ant.,  XVIII,  v,  2;  Justin,  Dial,  cum  17,  29,  80; 

Epiph.,  Adi\  /iter.,  XVII.  f Jos.,  B.  J".,  II,  viir,  5,  7,  9, 13. 

X Mischna,  Pesachim,  viii,  8;  Talm  of  Bab. , Jebamoth,  46  6;  Kertthuth,  9 a;  Aboda 
Zara,  57  a;  Masseket  Oerim  (edit.  Kirchiieim,  1851),  p.  S8-40. 

I Matt. , III,  1;  Mark,  i,  4.  § Luke,  iii,  3. 

^ John,  1, 28;  III,  26.  All  the  manuscripts  have  Bethany;  but,  as  no  Bethany  is 
known  in  these  parts,  Origen  (Comment,  in  Joann. , VI,  24)  proposes  to  substitute 
Bethabara,  and  his  correction  has  been  very  generally  accepted.  The  two  words 
are,  moreover,  of  analogous  signification,  and  seem  to  indicate  a place  wher 
there  w^as  a ferry-boat  to  cross  the  river. 

**  ^JBnon  is  the  Chaldaic  plural  of  ^Enawan,  “ fountains.^’ 

tf  John,  III,  23.  The  situation  of  this  place  is  doubtful.  The  circumstanc 
related  by  this  Evangelist  leads  to  the  belief  that  it  was  not  very  near  the  Jordan 
Vet  the  synoptics  are  constant  in  placing  all  the  scenes  of  J ohn’s  baptisms  upon 
the  banks  of  this  river  (Matt. , iii,  6;  Mark,  i,  5;  Luke,  iii,  3).  The  comparison  of 
verses  22  apd  23  of  the  md  chap,  of  John,  and  verses  3 and  4 of  the  ivth  chap,  of 
the  same  Evangelist,  favors  the  belief  that  Salim  was  in  Judea,  and  consequently 
in  the  oasis  of  Jericho,  near  the  mouth  of  the  Jordan,  since  there  can  hardly  be 
found  in  the  rest  of  the  territory  of  the  tribe  of  Judea  a single  natural  basin 
which  would  allow  the  total  immersion  of  the  whole  person.  Saint  Jerome 
thought  Salim  much  farther  north,  near  Beth-Schean  or  Scythopolis.  But  Rob- 
inson (Bibl  lies.,  Ill,  3 3)  could  find  nothing  on  t]ie  spot  to  justify  this  aliega 
don.  6 


122 


ORIGINS  OP  CHRISTIANITY. 


thronged  to  him  and  were  baptized.*^  In  a few  monthf 
he  thus  became  one  of  the  most  influential  men  in 
Judea,  and  all  had  to  do  with  him. 

The  people  regarded  him  as  a prophet, f and  many 
magined  that  he  was  Elias  alive  again.:]:  The  belief 
n such  resurrections,  was  wide  spread  ;]|  it  was 
fhought  that  God  would  raise  from  their  tombs  some 
of  the  ancient  prophets  to  serve  as  guides  in  conduct* 
ing  Israel  towards  its  final  destiny.§  Others  held 
John  to  be  the  Messiah  himself,  although  he  made  no 
such  claim.^f  The  priests  and  the  scribes,  opposed  to 
this  revival  of  prophecy,  and  always  inimical  to  en* 
thusiasts,  despised  him.  But  the  popularity  of  the 
Baptist  awed  them  and  they  dared  not  speak  against 
him.**  It  was  a victory  of  popular  opinion  over  the 
aristocratic  priesthood.  When  the  chief  priests  were 
compelled  to  explain  themselves  clearly  upon  this 
point,  it  greatly  embarassed  them.ff  Baptism  was 
however  to  John  only  a sign  intended  to  make  an  im- 
pression and  to  prepare  minds  for  some  great  move- 
ment. Doubtless  he  was  possessed  in  the  highest  de- 
gree with  the  expectation  of  the  Messiah,  and  his 
principal  action  was  directed  by  this.  ‘‘Repent  ye 
said  he,  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at  hand.”:}::}:  He 

announced  a ‘‘wrath”  that  is  to  say,  terrible  catastro- 
phes which  were  to  come,|||  and  declared  that  the  ax 
Was  already  laid  unto  the  root  of  the  tree  and  that  the 
tree  would  be  soon  cast  into  the  fire.  He  represented 
lis  Messiah  fan  in  hand,  gathering  the  good  grain  and 
jurnitg  the  chaff.  Repentance,  of  which  baptism 

• Mark)  i,  6;  Jo9.,  Ant. y XVIIl,  v,  2.  + Matt.,  xiv”,  5;  xxi,  26. 

1 Matt.,  XI,  14;  Mark,  vi,  16;  John,  i,  21.  J Matt.,  xiv,  2;  Luke,  ix,  8. 

I^See  above,  p.  118,  note  f.  Luke,  iii,  15  seqq. ; Joan,  i,  90 

« Matt. , XXI,  26  seqq  : Luke,  vu,  30.  ft  Matt. , loc.  cU. 

It  Matt.,  Ill,  2.  II il  Matt.,  Ill  7. 


123 


IJFE  OF  JESUS. 

was  a symbol,  charity,  the  amendment  of  morals,'* 
were  to  John  the  great  means  of  preparation  for  ap 
proaching  events.  The  exact  date  which  he  fixed  for^ 
the  occurrence  of  these  events  is  not  known.  So  much  \ 
is  certain,  however,  that  he  preached  with  much  force 

gainst  the  same  adversaries  as  Jesus,  against  the 
rich  priests,  tlie  Pharisees,  the  doctors,  official  Juda 
ism,  in  a word,  and  that,  like  Jesus,  he  was  accepted 
readily  by  the  despised  classes.f  He  reduced  to  no- 
thing tlie  title  of  children  of  Abraham,  and  said  that 
God  could  create  children  of  Abraham  out  of  the 
stones  of  the  highway.  J It  does  not  seem  that  he 
possessed,  even  in  germ,  the  grand  idea  which  consti- 
tuted the  triumph  of  Jesus,  the  idea  of  a V’lre  reli- 
gion ; but  he  was  of  great  service  to  that  iK  substitut- 
ing a private  rite  for  the  ceremonies  of  the  law  tc 
which  the  priests  were  essential,  much  as  the  Flaggel- 
lants  of  the  middle  ages  were  the  precursors  of  the 
Reformation,  by  taking  away  the  monopoly  of  sacra- 
ments and  of  absolution  from  the  official  clergy.  The 
general  tone  of  his  sermons  was  harsh  and  severe. 
The  expressions  which  he  used  against  his  adversaries 
appear  to  have  been  of  the  most  violent  character.! 
They  were  rude  and  incessant  invective.  It  is  prob- 
able that  he  did  not  remain  aloof  from  politics.  Jose- 
phus,  who  almost  touched  him  through  his  master 
Banou,  hints  this  in  hidden  phrase,§  and  the  catastrch 
phe  which  put  an  end  to  his  days  seems  to  suppose  it 

♦ Luke,  III,  11-14;  Jos.,  Ani.,  XVIII, v,  2.  + Matt.,  xxi,  32;  Luke, iii,  12-14 

t Matt.,  Ill,  9.  II  Matt.,  iii,  7;  Luke,  iii,  7. 

^ Xyill,  V,  2.  It  should  be  observed  that  when  Josephus  exposes  the 
secret  doctrines,  more  or  less  seditious,  of  his  compatriots,  he  effaces  everything 
which  indicates  the  Messianic  belief,  and  covers  over  these  doctrines,  so  as  not  to 
give  umbrage  to  the  Romans,  with  a varnish  of  generality  which  makes  the 
ehiels  of  the  Jewish  sects  resemble  professors  of  moral  philosophy  or  stoics. 


124 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


riis  disciples  led  a very  austere  life,*  fasting  frequent 
\y  and  affecting  a sad  and  anxious  appearance.  At  timoa 
the  existence  of  a community  of  goods  is  perceptible 
and  the  idea  that  the  rich  man  is  obliged  to  share 
that  which  he  has.f  The  poor  appear  already  as  tluse 
? 'ho  should  be  beneficiaries  in  the  first  rank  of  the 
kingdom  of  God. 

Although  the  central  point  of  John’s  action  was  in 
Jadea,  his  fame  soon  penetrated  into  Galileo  and 
reached  Jesus,  who  had  already  formed  about  him  by 
his  first  discourses  a small  circle  of  hearers.  Enjoy- 
ing as  yet  little  authority  and  doubtless  desirous  also 
to  see  a master  whose  teachings  had  so  much  in  com- 
mon with  his  own  ideas,  Jesus  left  Galilee  and  went 
with  his  little  school  to  visit  John.:]:  The  new  comers 
were  baptized  like  every  body  else.  John  cordially 
welcomed  this  swarm  of  Galilean  disciples,  and  was 
not  displeased  that  they  should  remain  distinct  from 
his  own.  The  two  masters  were  young;  they  had 
many  common  ideas ; they  loved  each  other  and  la- 
bored before  the  public  with  reciprocal  good-will. 
Siich  a state  of  things  surprises  us  at  the  first  thought 
in  regard  to  John  the  Baptist,  and  we  are  tempted  to 
doubt  it.  Humility  has  never  been  the  characteristic 
of  strong  souls  among  the  Jews.  It  seems  as  though 

• Matt.,  IX,  14,  f Luke,  iii,  11. 

J Matt.,  tii,  13  seqq. ; Mark,  i,  9 seqq. ; Luke,  iii,  21  seqq. ; John,  i,  29  secq. ; in, 
22seqq.  The  synoptics  make  Jesus  come  to  John  before  his  public  life  com- 
mences. But  if  it  is  true  as  they  say,  that  John  recognized  Jesus  at  once,  and 
gave  him  a great  welcome,  we  must  suppose  that  Jesus  was  already  a master  ot 
iome  renown.  The  fourth  Evangelist  takes  Jesus  twice  to  John,  once  privately 
A second  time  with  a troop  of  disciples.  Without  touching  here  upon  the  question 
of  the  precise  journeys  of^  Jesus  (a  question  which  cannot  be  resolved  in  view  of 
the  contradictious  of  the  documents,  and  the  little  care  of  the  evangelists  to  be 
exact  in  such  matters) , without  denying  that  Jesus  might  have  made  a journey 
to  John  at  a time  when  he  was  unknown,  we  adopt  the  datum  furnished  by  the 
fourth  evangelist  (iii,22seqq.)  to  wit,  that  Jesus  before  he  was  baptized  by  John 
had  a school  formed.  We  must  remember,  moreover,  that  the  first  pages  of  thf 
fourth  evangelist  are  notes  j)ut  together  without  rigorous  chronological  order. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


125 


a character  80  inflexible,  a sort  of  constantly  irritated 
Lamennais,  would  be  very  passionate  and  suffer  nei- 
tlier  rivalry  nor  partial  adhesion.  But  this  idea  is 
based  upon  a false  conception  of  the  person  of  John, 
He  is  represented  as  an  old  man ; he  was,  on  the  con- 
trary, of  the  same  age  as  Jesus,*  and  very  young  ac- 
cording to  the  notions  of  the  times.  He  was  not,  in 
the  order  of  mind,  the  father  of  Jesus,  but  only  his 
brother.  The  two  young  enthusiasts,  full  of  the  same 
hopes  and  the  same  hates,  might  well  make  common 
cause  and  reciprocally  support  each  other.  Certainly  an 
old  master  seeing  a man  without  celebrity  come  to  him 
and  manifest  airs  of  independence,  would  have  revolt- 
ed at  it ; there  is  hardly  an  example  of  the  head  of  a 
school  welcoming  with  cordiality  him  who  was  to  suc- 
ceed him.  But  youth  is  capable  of  all  abnegations, 
and  we  may  believe  that  John,  having  recognized 
in  Jesus  a spirit  kindred  to  his  own,  accepted  him 
without  selfish  considerations.  These  pleasant  relations 
became  thenceforth  the  starting-point  of  the  whole  sys- 
tem developed  by  the  evangelist,  which  consists  in  giv- 
ing as  the  first  basis  of  the  divine  mission  of  Jesus,  the 
attestation  of  John.  Such  was  the  degree  of  author- 
ity achieved  by  the  Baptist  that  they  thought  rio  bet- 
ter voucher  could  be  found  in  the  world.  But  far  from 
the  Baptist  abdicating  before  Jesus,  Jesus,  during  the 
whole  time  that  he  spent  with  him,  recognized  him  aa 
his  superior,  and  developed  his  own  genius  but  timidly. 

It  seems,  indeed,  that  notwithstanding  his  profound 
originality,  Jesus,  during  some  weeks  at  least,  was  the 
imitator  of  John.  His  path  was  yet  obscure  before 


• Luke,  I,  although  all  the  details  of  the  story,  especially  that  which  oqbi 
eems  the  relationship  of  John  with  Jesus,  are  legendary. 


126 


UKIGINS  OF  CHKlSTIANITr. 


him.  At  all  epochs,  moreover,  Jesus  yielded  mucli 
to  opinion,  and  even  adopted  things  which  were  not 
in  his  direction,  or  for  wdiich  he  had  little  regard,  for 
the  sole  reason  that  they  were  popular;  only,  thes« 
accessories  were  never  injurious  to  his  principal  idea 
and  were  always  subordinate  to  it.  Baptism  had  been 
brought  by  John  into  great  favor;  he  thought  himself 
obliged  to  do  likewise ; he  baptized  and  his  disciples 
baptized  also.*  Undoubtedly  they  accompanied  the 
baptism  by  sermons  similar  to  those  of  John.  The 
Jordan  was  thus  covered  on  all  sides  with  Baptists, 
whose  discourses  met  with  greater  or  less  success.  The 
pupil  soon  equaled  the  master,  and  his  baptism  was 
much  sought.  There  was  on  this  subject  jealousy 
among  the  disciples  ;f  the  disciples  of  John  came  and 
complained  to  him  of  the  growing  success  of  the 
young  Galilean,  whose  baptism  would  soon,  according 
to  them,  supplant  his  own.  But  the  two  masters  were 
superior  to  these  pettinesses.  The  superiority  of  John 
was,  moreover,  too  incompatible  for  Jesus,  as  yet  lit- 
tle known,  to  think  of  combatting  it.  He- desired  only 
to  grow  beneath  his  shadow,  and  thought  himself 
obliged,  in  order  to  win  the  multitude,  to  employ 
the  external  means  which  had  secured  to  John  such 
astonishing  success.  When  he  began  to  preach  after 
the  arrest  of  John,  the  first  words  which  are  put  into 
his  mouth  are  only  a repetition  of  one  of  the  familiar 
Jjhrases  of  the  Baptist.:]:  Many  other  expressions  of  Jolin 
are  repeated  literally  in  bis  discourses.!  The  two 
schools  appear  to  have  lived  a long  time  with  a good 
mutual  understanding§,  and  after  the  death  of  John, 

♦ John  III,  22-26;  iv,  1-2.  The  parenthesis  of  verse  2 seems  to  be  a oommeat 
added,  or  perhaps  a tardy  scruple  of  John  correcting  himself. 

t John,  111,26; IV,  1.  t Matt.,iii,  2;iv,17. 

J Matt.,  III.  7; XII, 34; XXIII, 33.  % Matt,  xi,  2-13. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS,  127 

Jesus,  as  his  trusted  brother,  was  one  of  the  first  to 
be  informed  of  the  event.* 

John,  indeed,  was  very  soon  checked  in  his  pro- 
phetic cjireer.  Like  the  ancient  Jewish  prophets,  he 
was,  in  the  highest  degree,  a railer  at  the  established 
powers.f  The  extreme  freedom  with  which  he  ex 
pressed  himself  in  their  regard  could  not  fail  to  create 
embarrassment  to  him.  In  Judea,  John  does  not  ap- 
pear to  have  been  disturbed  by  Pilate;  but  in  Perea, 
beyond  the  Jordan,  he  was  upon  the  territory  of  An- 
tipater. Tliis  tyrant  was  disquieted  by  the  ill-dissem- 
bled political  leaven  of  the  preaching  of  John.  The 
great  gatherings  of  men  created  by  religious  and  pa- 
triotic enthusiasm  around  the  Baptist,  were  something 
suspicious.:]:  A grievance  entirely  personal  came, 

moreover,  in  addition  to  these  motives  of  state,  to  seal 
the  doom  of  the  austere  censor. 

One  of  the  most  strongly  marked  characters  of  that 
tragic  family  of  Herods,  was  Herod ias,  granddaughter 
of  Herod  the  Great.  Violent,  ambitious,  and  passion- 
ate, she  detested  Judaism  and  despised  its  laws.  | She 
had  been  married,  probably  against  her  will,  to  her 
uncle  Herod, § son  of  Mariamne,  whom  Herod  the 
Great  had  disinherited,*|[  and  who  had  never  been  a 
public  character.  The  inferior  position  of  her  husband, 
compared  with  the  other  persons  of  his  family,  gave 
her  no  rest ; she  would  be  a sovereign  at  any  price.* 
Antipater  was  the  instrument  which  she  used.  That 
feeble  man,  having  become  distractedly  enamoured  of 

• Matt.,  XIV,  12.  + Luke,  iii,  19. 

t Jos.,  , XVIII,  Y,  2.  I Jos.,  XVm,  V,  4. 

^Matthew  (xiv,  3,  in  the  Greek  text)  and  Mark  (vi,l'0  prefer  Philip;  hut  thlf 
is  certainly  an  inadvertence  (see  Josephus,  Ant.^  XVIII,  v,  I and  4.)  The  wift 
of  Philip  was  Salome,  daughter  of  Herodias. 

% Jos.,  Aju  XVII,  IV,  2.  **  Jos.,  , XVIII,  VII,  1,2;  B J.,II  ix, 


128 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIAl^aTY. 


her^  promised  to  espouse  her  and  repudiate  his  first 
wife,  the  daughter  of  Hareth,  King  of  Petra  and  Emir 
of  the  neighboring  tribes  of  Perea.  The  Arab  princess, 
having  discovered  the  project,  resolved  to  DiS' 

eembling  her  design,  she  feigned  a desire  to  visit  Ma 
chero,  upon  tlie  territory  of  her  father,  and  was  com 
ducted  thither  by  the  officers  of  Antipater.*  Makaur,f 
or  Machero,  was  a colossal  fortress,  built  by  Alexander 
Jannsens,  since  rebuilt  by  Herod,  in  one  of  the  most 
abrupt  wadys  on  the  east  of  the  Dead  Sea.:j:  It  was  a 

wild  region,  strange,  filled  with  fantastical  legends, 
and  was  believed  to  be  the  haunt  of  demons.  | The 
fortress  was  just  on  the  line  between  the  territories  of 
Ilareth  and  Antipater.  It  was  now  in  the  posses- 
sion of  Hareth.§  He  had  been  forewarned,  and  had 
prepared  everything  for  his  daughter’s  flight,  who, 
from  tribe  to  tribe,  was  taken  back  to  Petra. 

The  almost  incestuousT  union  of  Antipater  and  He- 
rodias  was  then  accomplished.  The  Jewish  laws  upon 
marriage  were  an  incessant  source  of  scandal  between 
the  irreligious  family  of  the  Herods  and  the  strict  Je  ws  ** 
The  members  of  that  numerous  and  rather  isolated 
dynasty  were  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  inter-mar- 
riage and  frequent  violations  of  the  impediments  pre- 
scribed by  the  Law  were  the  result.  John  was  the 
echo  of  the  general  opinion  in  his  energetic  blame  of 
Antipater.ff  This  was  more  than  enough  to  decide 
Antipater  to  act  upon  nis  suspicions.  He  caused  the 

* Jos.,  Ant.,  XVIII,  V,  1. 

t This  form  is  found  in  the  Talmud  of  Jerusalem  (SchMU^  ix,  2)  and  In  thk 
Targums  of  Jonathan  and  of  Jerusalem  (Numbers,  xxii,  35). 

X To-day  Mkaur,  in  the  wady  Zerka  Main.  This  place  has  not  been  Tisiteci 
tince  Seetzen. 

i J os. , De  bell.  Jud. , VII,  vi,  1 seqq.  § Jos. , Ant. , XVIII,  v,  1. 

f Ziew.,  XVIII,  16  **  Jos.,  ^rrf.,  XV,  VII,  10. 

ff  Matt.,xiv,4;Mark,vi,18;Lnke,iii,10 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


129 


Ijapiist  to  be  arrested,  and  ordered  that  he  be  confined 
in  the  fortress  of  Machero,  which  he  had  probably 
seized  after  the  departure  of  the  daughter  of  Hareth.'** 
Timid,  rather  than  cruel,  Antipater  did  ’^ot  wish  to 
put  him  to  death.  According  to  some  reports,  he 
feared  a popular  tumult.f  According  to  another  ver- 
sion,:j:  he  took  pleasure  in  listening  to  the  prisoner,  and 
these  conversations  filled  him  with  the  greatest  per 
plexity.  So  much  is  certain,  that  the  detention  of 
John  was  prolonged,  and  that  he  continued  to  exert 
from  the  depths  of  his  prison  a wide-spread  influence. 
He  corresponded  with  his  disciples,  and  we  shall  again 
find  him  in  communication  with  Jesus.  Ilis  faith  in 
the  near  approach  of  Messiah  became  stronger  than 
ever;  he  followed  attentively  all  movements  without, 
and  sought  to  discover  in  them  signs  favorable  to  th«j 
accomplishment  of  the  liopes  which  supported  him. 

• Jo8.,^n<.,XVIII,  V, 2.  t Matt. , XIV, 6. 

IMark,  VI,  20.  IreMdrjico^Si  nadnot 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


i iCTBL0PMB2f  T OF  THE  IDEAS  OF  JESUS  C 02f  C H B E I B € 
THE  KINGDOM  OF  GOD. 

Up  to  the  arrest  of  John,  which  we  place  proxh 
mately  in  the  summer  of  the  year  29,  Jesus  did  not 
leave  the  vicinity  of  the  Dead  Sea  and  the  Jordan.  A 
sojourn  in  the  desert  of  Judea  was  generally  considered 
the  preparation  for  great  deeds,  a sort  of  retreat  ’’ 
before  public  acts.  Jesus  followed  in  this  the  example 
of  others,  and  passed  forty  days,  with  no  company  but 
the  wild  beasts,  keeping  a rigorous  fast.  The  imagina- 
tion of  his  disciples  was  much  exercised  concerning 
this  sojourn.  The  desert  was,  in  the  popular  belief, 
the  abode  of  demons.*  There  are  few  regions  in  the 
world  more  desolate,  more  God-forsaken,  more  closed 
against  life  than  the  stony  slope  which  forms  the  wes- 
tern border  of  the  Dead  Sea.  It  was  believed  that 
daring  the  time  which  he  passed  in  this  hideous  coun- 
try, he  suffered  terrible  temptations,  that  Satan  had 
endeavored  to  terrify  him  with  his  illusions  or  cajole 
him  with  seductive  promises,  and  that  then  the  angels 
had  come  to  serve  him  as  a reward  for  his  victory.f 

♦ Jobit,  VIII,  3;  Luke,  xi,  24. 

t Matt.,  IV,  1 seqq.;  Mark,  i,  12-13;  Luke,  iv,  1 seqq.  Certainly  the  striking 
Analogy  which  these  stories  present  to  the  analogous  legends  of  the  FendiM 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


131 


It  was  probably  on  coming  forth  from  the  desert 
that  Jesus  was  apprised  of  the  arrest  of  John  the  Bap 
tist.  He  had  no  further  reason  for  a prolonged  sojourn 
in  a country  in  which  he  was  almost  a stranger.  Per 
haps  he  feared  that  he  might  be  comprehended  in  the 
severities  exercised  in  regard  to  John,  and  preferred 
not  to  expose  himself  at  a time  when,  in  view  of  the 
small  celebrity  which  he  had  obtained,  his  death 
would  not  serve  the  progress  of  his  ideas.  He  return- 
ed to  Galilee,*  his  true  country,  matured  by  an  im- 
portant experience  and  having  developed  in  contact 
with  a great  man,  very  different  from  himself,  the  feel- 
ing of  his  originality.  On  the  whole,  the  influence  of 
John  had  been  more  injurious  than  useful  to  Jesus. 
It  was  a check  in  his  developement ; everything  goes 
to  show  that  when  he  descended  to  the  Jordan  hia 
ideas  were  superior  to  those  of  John,  and  that  it  was 
by  a species  of  concession  that  he  inclined  for  a mo- 
ment towards  baptism.  Perhaps  if  the  Baptist,  from 
whose  authority  he  could  with  difficulty  have  with- 
drawn himself,  had  been  left  in  freedom,  he  would  not 
have  been  able  to  throw  off  the  yoke  of  rites  and  of 
external  practi(*es,  and  in  that  case  he  would  undoubt- 
edly have  remained  an  unknown  Jewish  sectary;  for  the 
world  would  not  have  abandoned  one  set  of  rites  for 
another.  Through  the  attraction  of  a religion  disen 
gaged  from  all  external  forms  it  is  that  Christianity 
has  enchanted  lofty  souls.  The  Baptist  once  imprisoned, 
liis  school  was  greatly  diminished,  and  Jesus  was  re- 

(farg.  xix)  andtotlieZaKtowwfam  (ch.  xvii,  xviii,  xxi)  would  indicate  that  they 
are  myths  only.  But  the  meagre  and  concise  recital  of  Mark,  who  here  repre* 
■ents  evidently  the  original  compilation,  implies  a real  occurrence  which  hai 
lince  furnished  the  theme  of  legendary  developments. 

• Matt.,  IV,  12;  Mark,  t,  14;  Luke  iv,  14;  John,  iv,  3. 


132 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRIST EANITY, 


stored  to  his  own  work.  The  only  thing  which  he 
owed  to  John,  was,  to  a certain  extent,  lessons  in 
preaching  and  in  popular  agitation.  From  this  time 
in  fact,  he  preached  with  much  more  force  and  im 
pressed  himself  upon  the  multitude  with  avithority.* 
It  seems  also  that  his  sojourn  with  John,  less  t y tha 
action  of  the  Baptist  than  by  the  natural  progress  of 
his  own  thought,  greatly  matured  his  ideas  upon  ‘‘  the 
kingdom  of  heaven.”  His  watch-word  thenceforth  ia 
‘^good  tidings,”  the  announcement  that  the  kingdom 
of  God  is  at  hand.f  Jesus  will  no  longer  be  a delight- 
ful moralist,  aspiring  to  concentrate  sublime  lessons  in 
a few  brief  and  living  aphorisms  ; he  is  the  transcen- 
dant  revolutionist,  who  essays  to  renew  the  world 
from  its  deepest  foundations,  and  to  establish  upon 
earth  the  ideal  which  he  has  conceived.  To  await 
the  kingdom  of  God,”  will  be  synonymous  with  being 
a disciple  of  Jesus.|  The  words  ‘‘kingdom  of  God” 
or  “ kingdom  of  heaven,”  as  we  have  already  said,J 
had  long  been  familiar  to  the  Jews,  But  Jesus  gave 
them  a moral  sense,  a social  bearing,  at  which  even  the 
author  of  the  Book  of  Daniel,  in  his  apocalyptic  en- 
thusiasm,  hardly  dared  to  glance. 

In  the  world  as  it  is,  it  is  evil  which  reigns,  Satan 
is  the  “ prince  of  this  world,”§  and  all  obey  him.  The 
kings  slay  the  prophets.  The  priests  and  the  doctors 
do  not  that  which  they  command  others  to  do.  The 
just  are  persecuted,  and  the  peculiar  portion  of  the 
good  is  to  weep.  The  “ world  ” is  thus  the  enemy  of 
God  and  his  saints.^  The  day  is  at  hand ; for  the 

* Matt. , VII,  29;  Mark,  i,  22;  Luke,  iv,  32.  + Mark,  i,  14-16. 

1 Mark,  xv,  43.  1 See  above,  p.  106  107. 

\ John,  XII,  31;  xiv,  SO;  xvi,  11.  Compare  II  Cor.,  iv,  4.  Ephes.y  h,  2. 

John,  1, 10;  VII,  7;  xiv,  17,  22,  27;  xv,  18  seqq.;  xvi,8,30,33;  xvii,9j|14, 16,  26 
This  meaning  of  the  word  “ world”  especially  characterises  the  writings  of  Paul 
and  John 


LIFE  OF  JESUS.  133 

abomination  is  at  its  height  Tae  leign  of  good  shall 
have  its  turn. 

The  coming  of  this  reign  of  good  will  be  a gran^ 
and  sudden  revolution.  The  world  will  seem  to  be 
overturned ; the  present  state  of  things  being  bad,  in 
order  to  represent  the  future  it  sufficed  to  imagine  near- 
ly the  contrary  of  every  thing  in  existence.  The  first 
shall  be  last.*  A new  order  shall  govern  humanity. 
Now  good  and  evil  are  mixed  like  tares  and  good 
grain  in  the  field.  The  master  permits  them  to  grow  to- 
gether; but  the  hour  of  violent  separation  will  come.f 
The  kingdom  of  God  will  be  like  a great  cast  of  the 
net,  which  gathers  good  and  bad  fish  ; the  good  are 
placed  in  vessels,  and  the  rest  are  cast  away.;}:  The 

germ  of  this  grand  revolution  will  be  at  first  unrecog- 
nizable. It  will  be  like  a grain  of  mustard  seed, 
which  is  the  least  of  seeds,  but  which,  cast  into  the 
earth,  becomes  a tree  in  the  branches  of  which  the 
birds  come  and  lodge  or  again  it  will  be  like  the 
leaven  which,  put  into  the  dough,  ferments  the  entire 
mass.§  A series  of  parables,  often  obscure,  was  de- 
signed to  express  the  surprises  of  this  sudden  advent, 
its  apparent  injustice,  its  inevitable  and  definitive 
character. 

Who  will  establish  this  reign  of  God  ? Lot  us  re- 
member that  the  first  idea  of  Jesus,  an  idea  so  deep 
in  him  that  it  probably  had  no  origin,  but  inhered  in 
the  very  roots  of  his  being,  was  that  ho  was  the  son 
if  God,  the  intimate  of  his  Father,  the  executor  of 
his  will.  The  response  of  Jesus  to  such  a question 

• Matt.,  XIX,  30;  xx,  16;  Mark,  x,  31;  Luke,  xiii,  30. 

I Matt. , XIII,  24  seqq  + Matt,  xiii,  47  seqq 

I Matt  , XIII,  31  seqq. ; Mark,  iv,  31  seqq  ; Luke,  xiii,  19  seqq. 

{ Matt. , XIII,  33;  Luke,  XIII,  21. 

] Matt  , XIII  eutire;  xyiii,  23  seq;.;  xx,  1 seqq.;  Luke,  xiii,  18 


134 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY 


could  not  therefore  be  doubtful.  The  conviction  that 
he  was  to  bring  about  the  reign  of  God  took  absolute 
possession  of  his  soul.  He  looked  upon  himself  as  the 
univ’ersal  reformer.  The  heavens,  the  earth,  all  na- 
ture, madness,  disease  and  death  are  only  instruments 
to  him.  In  his  paroxysm  of  heroic  will,  lie  believei 
himself  all  powerful.  If  the  earth  does  not  yield  to 
this  supreme  transformation,  the  earth  will  be  ground 
to  powder,  purified  by  fire  and  the  breath  of  God.*  A 
new  heaven  will  be  created,  and  the  whole  world  will 
be  peopled  by  the  angels  of  God. 

A radical  revolution,f  embracing  even  nature  itself, 
such,  then,  was  the  fundamental  idea  of  Jesus.  Thence- 
forth, doubtless,  he  renounced  politics;  the  example 
of  Juda  the  Gaulonite  had  shown  him  the  inutility  of 
popular  seditions.  He  never  dreamed  of  revolt 
against  the  Romans  or  the  tetrarchs.  The  unbridled 
and  anarchical  principle  of  the  Gaulonite  was  not  hie. 
His  submission  to  the  established  powers,  derisive  in 
reality,  was  complete  in  appearance.  He  paid  tribute 
to  Caesar  in  order  not  to  cause  scandal.  Liberty  and 
right  are  not  of  this  world ; wherefore  trouble  his  life 
with  idle  susceptibilities?  Despising  the  earth,  con- 
vinced that  the  present  world  does  not  merit  his  care, 
he  took  refuge  in  his  ideal  kingdom ; he  founded  this 
grand  doctrine  of  transcendant  disdain,:]:  the  true  doc- 
trine of  the  liberty  of  souls,  which  alone  gives  peace. 
But  he  had  not  yet  said : My  kingdom  is  not  of  this 

>vorld.’’  Gloomy  thoughts  were  also  mingled  with 
’ii^  justest  views.  At  times  strange  temptations  crossed 

* Matt  , 30 

t ’Aflroxardco'rao'i^  AcUy  iii,  21. 

% Matt,  XVII,  23  26;  xxil,  16-22 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


136 


Ills  spirit.  In  the  desert  of  Judea,  Satan  had  offered 
him  the  kin^^doms  of  the  earth.  Not  knowing  the 
power  of  the  Roman  Empire,  he  might,  upon  the  deep 
basis  of  enthusiasm  which  existed  in  Judea  and  which 
resulted  soon  after  in  such  terrible  military  resistance, 
he  might,  I say,  have  hoped  to  found  a kingdom  bj 
the  boldness  and  the  number  of  his  partisans.  Many 
times  perhaps  this  supreme  question  was  presented  to 
him.  Shall  the  kingdom  of  God  be  realized  by  force  or 
by  gentleness,  by  revolt  or  by  patience  ? One  day,  it 
is  said,  the  simple  people  of  Galilee  wished  to  take 
liini  and  make  him  a king.*  Jesus  fled  into  the  moun- 
tain and  remained  there  some  time  alone.  His  beauti- 
ful nature  preserved  him  from  the  mistake  which 
would  have  made  him  an  agitator  or  a rebel  chief,  a 
Theudas  or  a Barkokeba. 

The  revolution  which  he  desired  to  bring  about  was 
always  a moral  revolution ; but  he  was  not  yet  ready 
to  rely  for  its  execution  upon  the  angels  and  the  flnal 
trump.  It  was  upon  men  and  by  men  themselves  that  he 
desired  to  act.  A visionary  who  had  no  other  idea  than 
the  proximity  of  tlie  last  judgment  would  not  have 
had  this  care  for  the  amelioration  of  man,  and  would 
never  have  founded  the  most  beautiful  moral  teaching 
that  humanity  has  received.  Much  uncertainty  re- 
mained doubtless  in  his  thought,  and  a noble  senti- 
ment, rather  than  a fixed  design,  urged  him  to  the 
sublime  work  which  has  been  realized  by  him,  al- 
though in  a manner  far  different  from  that  which  he 
imagined. 

It  is  indeed  the  kingdom  of  God,  or  rather  the 
kingdom  of  the  spirit,  which  he  founded,  ard  if 

• Johiii  VI,  1& 


136 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


Jesus,  from  tlie  bosom  of  his  Father,  sees  his  work 
fructifying  in  history,  he  can  well  say  with  truth: 
^‘Lo!  that  which  I desired.”  What  Jesus  has  es- 
tablished, what  will  remain  eternally  his,  aside  from  the 
imperfections  which  mingle  with  everything  realized 
by  humanitv,  is  the  doctrine  of  the  liberty  of  souls. 
Already  Greece  had  presented  upon  this  subject  fine 
ideas.*  Many  stoics  had  found  means  of  being  free 
under  a tyrant.  But,  in  general,  the  ancient  world  had 
imagined  liberty  as  connected  with  certain  political 
forms ; the  liberals  were  called  Harmodius  and  Aris- 
togiton,  Brutus  and  Cassius.  The  true  Christian  is  far 
more  free  from  every  chain  ; he  is  here  below  an  ex- 
ile ; what  to  him  is  the  temporary  master  of  this  earth 
which  is  not  his  home  ? Liberty  for  him  is  truth. f 
Jesus  did  not  know  enough  of  history  to  comprehend 
how  exactly  such  a doctrine  filled  the  need  of  the 
time  just  when  republican  liberty  was  ending,  and 
the  small  municipal  constitutions  of  antiquity  were 
expiring  jn  the  unity  of  the  Roman  empire.  But  his 
admirable  good  sense  and  the  truly  prophetic  instinct 
which  he  had  of  his  mission,  guided  him  here  with 
marvelous  safety.  By  this  expression : ‘‘  Render  to 
Caesar  the  things  that  are  Caesar’s  and  ta  God  the 
things  are  God’s,”  he  has  created  something  beyond 
politics,  a refuge  for  souls  in  the  midst  of  the  empire 
of  brutal  force.  Assuredly  such  a doctrine  had  its 
dangers.  To  establish  in  principle  that  the  sign  by 
wdiich  to  recognize  the  legitimate  power  is  to  look  at 
a coin,  to  proclaim  that  the  perfect  man  pays  his  tax 
disdainfully  and  without  discussion,  was  to  destroy  lh« 

• V.  Stobaeus,  Florilegiuniy  eh.  lxii,  Lxxrii,  lxxxyi  leqq. 

t John,  VIII,  32  seqq. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


13^ 

republic  in  its  ancient  form  and  to  favor  aJ  tyian 
nies.  Christianity,  in  this  sense,  has  largely  contribut- 
ed to  weaken  the  sentiment  of  duty  among  citizens  and 
to  deliver  the  world  over  to  the  absolute  power  of  ac- 
complished facts.  But  in*  constituting  an  immense 
ree  association  which,  for  three  hundred  years,  had 
nothing  to  do  with  politics,  Christianity  amply  com 
pensated  for  the  injury  which  it  inflicted  upon  the  ’ 
civic  virtues.  The  power  of  the  state  was  limited  bo 
the  things  of  earth,  the  soul  was  enfranchised,  or  at 
least  the  terrible  fasces  of  Roman  omnipotence  were 
broken  forever. 

The  man  who  is  entirely  absorbed  in  the  duties  of 
public  life  never  pardons  those  who  put  anything  above 
the  struggles  of  party.  He  especially  blames  those 
who  subordinate  political  to  social  questions,  and  pro- 
fess for  the  former  a species  of  indifference.  In  one 
sense  he  is  right,  for  every  exclusive  direction  is  preju- 
dicial to  the  good  government  of  human  affairs.  But 
what  progress  in  the  general  morality  of  the  race  have 
parties  produced  ? Had  Jesus,  instead  of  founding  his 
heavenly  kingdom,  gone  to  Rome,  worn  himself  out  in 
conspiring  against  Tiberius,  or  bewailing  Germanicus, 
what  would  have  become  of  the  world  ? As  an  aus- 
tere republican,  a zealous  patriot,  he  would  not  have 
stopped  the  grand  tide  of  affairs  in  his  century,  while 
in  declaring  politics  insigniflcant,  he  revealed  to  the 
world  the  truth  that  country  is  not  everything,  and 
hat  the  man  is  anterior  and  superioi  to  the  citizen. 

Our  principles  of  positive  science  are  offended  by 
the  fancies  which  are  included  in  the  programme  of 
Jesus.  We  know  the  history  of  the  earth  ; cosinical 
revolutions  of  the  kind  which  Jesus  expected,  are  pro^ 


138 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


duced  only  by  geological  or  astronomical  causes,  the 
connection  of  which  with  moral  powers  has  never  been 
established.  But,  to  be  just  towards  great  creators,  we 
must  not  pause  at  the  prejudices  which  they  may  have 
shared.  Columbus  discovered  America  in  consequence 
of  very  erroneous  ideas ; Newton  thought  his  crazy 
exposition  of  the  Apocalypse  as  certain  as  his  system 
of  the  world.  Do  we  rank  any  average  man  of  our 
time  above  a Francis  d’Assisi,  a Saint  Bernard,  a Joan 
of  Arc,  or  a Luther,  because  he  is  free  from  the  errors 
which  they  believed?  Would  we  measure  men  by 
the  correctness  of  their  ideas  in  Physics,  and  their 
more  or  less  exact  knowledge  of  the  true  system  of  the 
world  ? Let  us  comprehend  better  the  position  of 
Jesus  and  the  nature  of  his  power.  The  deism  of  the 
xviiith  century  and  a certain  kind  of  Protestantism 
have  accustomed  us  to  consider  the  founder  of  the 
Christian  faith  only  as  a great  moralist,  a benefactor  of 
humanity.  We  no  longer  see  in  the  Gospel  anything 
more  than  good  maxims ; we  cast  a prudent  vail  over 
the  strange  intellectual  condition  into  which  he  was 
born.  There  are  people  who  regret  also  that  the 
French  Revolution  was  in  many  things  a departure 
from  principles,  and  that  it  had  not  been  conducted 
by  wise  and  moderate  men.  Let  us  not  impose  our 
petty  programmes  of  common-sense  respectability  upon 
these  extraordinary  movements  so  far  above  our  pitch. 
Let  US  continue  to  admire  the  ‘‘morality  of  the  Gos- 
pel .et  us  suppress  in  our  religious  instructions  thd 
chimera  which  was  its  soul ; but  let  us  not  believe  that 
with  simple  ideas  of  happiness  or  of  individual  moral- 
ity the  world  can  be  moved.  The  idea  of  Jesus  was 
far  more  profound;  it  was  the  most  revolutionary  idea 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


139 


vrhicli  was  ever  evolved  from  a human  brain;  it  must 
be  taken  in  its  completeness,  and  not  with  those  timid 
suppressions  which  rob  it  precisely  of  that  which  has 
rendered  it  eflBcacious  for  the  regeneration  of  humanity 

At  bottom,  the  ideal  is  always  a utopia.  To-day, wher 
we  desire  to  represent  the  Christ  of  the  modern  con 
science,  the  consoler,  the  judge  of  the  new  epoch,what 
is  it  that  we  do?  What  Jesus  himself  did  1830  years 
ago.  We  suppose  the  conditions  of  the  real  world  to- 
tally diflferent  from  what  they  are ; we  represent  a 
moral  liberator  breaking  without  w^eapons  the  chains 
of  the  negro,  ameliorating  the  condition  of  the  poor, 
delivering  oppressed  nations.  We  forget  that  this 
supposes  the  world  reversed,  the  climate  of  Yirginia 
and  that  of  Congo  modified,  the  blood  and  the  race  of 
millions  of  men  changed,  our  social  complications  re- 
duced to  a chimerical  simplicity,  the  political  stratifi- 
cations of  Europe  thrown  out  of  their  natural  order. 
The  ‘‘restitution  of  all  things  desired  by  Jesus,  was 
not  more  difficult.  That  new  earth,  that  new  heaven, 
that  new  Jerusalem  which  descends  from  heaven,  that 
cry,  “ Behold,  I make  all  things  new  !”f  are  the  common 
characteristics  of  reformers.  Forever  will  the  contrast 
of  the  ideal  with  the  sad  reality  produce  in  humanity 
those  revolts  against  cold  reason,  which  common  minds 
call  madness,  until  the  day  of  their  triumph,  when 
those  who  have  combatted  them  are  the  first  to  ac- 
knowledge their  lofty  wisdom. 

That  there  was  a contradiction  between  the  belief  bi 
the  speedy  destruction  of  the  world  and  the  habitual 
moral  philosophy  of  Jesus,  conceived  in  view  of  a sta- 
ble condition  of  humanity,  broadly  analogous  to  that 

^ JeUt  III,  21.  t Beu.  f XXI,  1, 2, 6. 


140 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


which  LOW  exists,  none  will  attempt  to  deny.*  It  wai 
just  this  contradiction  which  assured  the  success  of  hie 
work.  The  millennarian  alone  would  hare  possessed 
no  power.  The  inillennarianism  gave  the  impulsion, 
the  morality  secured  the  future.  In  this  way,  Chrie^ 
tianity  united  the  two  conditions  of  gr^;at  success  in 
this  world,  a i^evolutionary  starting-point,  and  thejpoffl 
Bibility  of  1^.  ^EvSryThmg”^^  is  made  to  succeed, 
must  respond  to  these  two  needs ; for  the  world  de- 
mands at  the  same  time  to  change  and  to  endure. 

— 2 — — — 

/ Jesus,  while  he  announced  an  unparalleled  revhlunSn 
in  human  affairs,  proclaimed  the  principles  upon  which 
^ society  has  reposed  for  the  last  eighteen  hundred  years. 
That  which  indeed  distinguishes  Jesus  from  the  agi- 
tators of  his  time  and  from  those  of  all  ages,  is  his 
perfect  idealism.  Jesus,  in  some  respects,  is  an  anar- 
chist, for  he  has  no  idea  of  civil  government.  This 
government  seems  to  him  purely  and  simply  an  abuse. 
He  speaks  of  it  in  vague  terms,  and  like  a man  of  the 
people  who  had  no  idea  of  polity.  Every  magistrate 
appears  to  him  the  natural  enemy  of  the  men  of  God ; 
he  announces  to  his  disciples  contests  with  the  author- 
ities, without  dreaming  for  a moment  that  they  might 
give  cause  for  shame.f  But  never  does  the  temptation 
to  substitute  himself  for  the  powerful  and  the  rich  ap- 
pear in  him.  He  desired  to  annihilate  riches  and 
power,  but  not  to  seize  them.  He  predicts  to  his  dis- 
ciples persecutions  and  punishments but  he  did  not 
once  permit  himself  to  entertain  the  thought  of  armed 


* The  millennarian  sects  of  England  present  the  same  contrast,  I mean  thf 
belief  in  a speedy  destruction  of  the  world,  and  nevertheless  mnch  good  sense  in 
the  practicalities  of  life, — an  extraordinary  attention  to  commercial  and  indua- 
trial  afifairs.  t Matt.,  x,  17-18:  Luke,  xii,  11. 

X Matt.,  Y,  10  seqi.;  x entire  Luke,  vi,  22  seqq.  • John,  xv.  18  seqq.;  xvi,  I 
Mqq.,20,33ixyn,U. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


Ill 


resistance.  The  idea  of  omnipotence  through  suffer* 
ing  and  resignation,  of  triumphing  over  force  by  purity 
of  heart,  is  indeed  an  idea  peculiar  to  Jesus.  Jesus 
was  not  a spiritualist,  for  everything  to  him  resulted 
in  a palpable  realization ; he  has  not  the  least  notion 
of  a soul  separate  from  the  body.  But  he  is  a perfect 
idealist,  the  material  to  him  being  only  the  sign  of  the 
idea,  and  the  real,  the  living  expression  of  that  which 
does  not  appear. 

To  whom  should  he  address  himself,  upon  whom  re- 
ly to  found  the  kingdom  of  God  ? The  mind  of  Jesus 
in  this  never  hesitated.  What  is  high  to  men  is  an 
abomination  in  the  eyes  of  God.*  The  founders  of 
the  kingdom  of  God  shall  be  the  simple.  No  rich,  no 
doctors,  no  priests  ; women,  men  of  the  people,  the 
humble,  the  little  ones.f  The  great  sign  of  the  Mes- 
siah is  “ the  gospel  preached  to  the  poor.’’;]:  The 
gentle  and  idyllic  nature  of  Jesus  here  resumes  the  as- 
cendant. An  immense  social  revolution  in  which 
ranks  shall  be  inverted,  in  which  all  that  is  authorita- 
tive in  this  world  shall  be  humbled,  such  is  his  dream. 
The  world  will  not  believe  him  ; the  world  will  kill 
him.  But  his  disciples  will  not  be  of  the  world. j 
They  will  bo  a little  flock  of  the  humble  and  the  sim- 
ple, who  will  conquer  by  their  very  humility.  The 
sentiment  which  has  made  of  ‘^worldling”  the  antith- 
esis of  Christian,”  has  in  the  thoughts  of  the  maste 
its  complete  justification. § 

• Luke,  XVI,  15 

f Matt.,  V,  3, 10;  xvm,  3;  xix,  14,  23  24;  xxi,  3JL;  xxxi,  2 seqq.,  Ma\k,  X,  14 16 
63-26;  Luke,  iv,  18  seqq.  j vi,  20;  xviii,  16-17 ; 24-25. 

1 Matt.,  XI,  5.  I John,  xv,  19;  xvii,  14, 16. 

§ See  especially  the  seventeenth  chapter  ot  St.  John,  expressing,  if  not  a real 
discourse  delivered  by  Jesus,  at  least  a feeling  which  was  very  d‘'«p  among  hi| 
lisoiples,  and  which  certainly  came  from  him. 


142 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITT. 


CHAPTEK  VIII. 

JESUS  AT  CAPERlTAUll. 

Possessed  by  an  idea  more  and  more  imperious  and 
exclusive,  Jesus  will  henceforth  advance  with  a kind 
of  impassible  fatality  along  the  path  which  his  aston- 
ishing genius  and  the  extraordinary  circumstances  in 
which  he  lived  had  marked  out  for  him.  Thus  far  he 
had  communicated  his  thoughts  only  to  a few  persons 
attracted  to  him  privatelj  ; henceforth  his  teaching 
becomes  public  and  popular.  He  was  scarcely  thirty 
years  of  age.*  The  little  group  of  hearers  who  had 
accompanied  him  to  John  the  Baptist  had  doubtless  in- 
creased, and  perhaps  some  of  John’s  disciples  had  joined 
him.f  It  is  with  this  first  nucleus  of  a Church  that  he 
boldly  announces,,  on  his  return  into  Galilee,  the  good 
tidings  of  the  kingdom  of  God.”  That  kingdom  was 
at  hand,  and  he,  Jesus,  was  that  Son  of  man  ” whom 
he  prophet  Daniel  had  perceived  in  his  vision  as  the 
livine  executor  of  the  final  and  supreme  revelation. 

We  must  remember  that,  in  the  ideas  of  the  Jews, 
antipathetic  to  art  and  mythology,  the  simple  form  of 
man  was  superior  to  that  of  the  cherubs^  and  the  fam 

• Luke,  III,  23;  gospel  of  the  Ebionim,  in  Epiph.,  Adv.  hcBr.y  xxz,  tA 
t John,  1,  37  seqq. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


143 


fastic  animals,  which  the  imagination  of  the  people, 
since  it  had  been  subjected  to  the  influence  of  Assyria, 
supposed  to  be  ranged  around  the  divine  Majesty.  Ah 
ready  in  Ezekiel,*  the  being  seated  upon  the  supreme 
tiirone,  far  above  the  monsters  of  the  mysterious  char- 
iot, the  great  revelator  of  the  prophetic  visions  has  the 
likeness  of  a man.  In  the  Book  of  Daniel,  in  the  midst 
of  the  vision  of  empires  represented  by  animals,  just  aa 
the  sitting  of  the  great  judgment  commences  and  the 
books  are  opened,  a being  like  the  son  of  man  ” ad- 
vances towards  the  Ancient  of  days,  who  confers  on 
him  the  power  to  judge  the  world,  and  to  govern  it 
forever.f  Son  of  man  is  in  the  Semitic  languages, 
especially  in  the  Aramaean  dialects,  simply  a synonym 
of  man.  But  this  great  passage  of  Daniel  struck  the 
imagination  ; the  word  son  of  man  became,  at  least  in 
certain  schools,:]:  one  of  the  titles  of  the  Messiah  por- 
trayed as  the  judge  of  the  world  and  as  king  of  the 
new  era  which  was  about  to  open.||  The  application 
which  Jesus  made  of  it  to  himself  was  therefore  the 
proclamation  of  his  Messiahship  and  the  declaration 
of  the  speedy  catastrophe  in  which  he  was  to  appear  as 
judge,  clothed  with  the  full  powers  which  had  been 
delegated  to  him  by  the  Ancient  of  days.§ 

The  success  of  the  preaching  of  the  new  prophet 
was  now  decided.  A group  of  men  and  women,  all 
• characterized  by  a common  spirit  cf  youthful  candor 
and  artless  innocence,  adhered  to  him  and  said : ‘‘  Thou 

♦ 1, 5, 26  seqq.  t Oaniel,  vii,  13--4.  Comp,  viii,  16;  x,  J6. 

1 In  John,  XII,  34,  the  Jews  do  not  seem  to  be  aware  of  this  sense  of  the  word. 

I Book  of  Enoch,  xlvi,  1,  2,  3;  xlviii,  2,  3;  lxii,  9, 14;  lxx,  1 (division  of  Dill* 
man);  Matt,  X,  23;  xiii,41;  xvi,  27-28;  xix,  28;  xxiv,  27,  SO,  37,  39,  44;  xxv,  31, 
XXVI,  64;  Mark,  xiii,  26;  XIV,  62;  Luke,  xii,  4C^  xvii,  24,  26,  30;  xxi,  27,  36;  xxu, 
69 ; Ads^  VII , 55.  But  the  most  significant  pas^'agiv  is  J ohn  v , 27 , compared  with  Beo. , 
1. 13,  XIV,  14.  The  expression  “ Son  of  woman”  for  the  Messiah  is  found  once  i» 
toe  i^ok  oi  Enoch,  lxxi,  5.  § John,  v, 22,  27. 


144 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


art  the  Messiah.”  As  the  Messiah  must  be  the  son  ot 
David,  they  naturally  gave  him  that  title,  which  was 
a synonym  of  the  first.  Jesus  permitted  it  to  be  given 
him  with  pleasure,  although  it  caused  him  some  em- 
bari assment,  his  birth  being  well  known.  For  hi 
own  part,  the  title  which  he  preferred  was  that  of 
*^Son  of  man,”  a title  apparently  humble,  but  one 
which  attached  itself  directly  to  the  expectations  of  a 
Messiah.  It  is  by  this  expression  that  he  designates 
himself,*  so  much  so  that  in  his  mouth  “ the  Son  of 
man”  was  synonymous  with  the  pronoun  I ” which 
he  avoided  using.  But  he  is  never  thus  addressed, 
doubtless  because  the  name  in  question  could  be  fully 
accorded  to  him  only  at  the  period  of  his  second  coming. 

The  center  of  activity  of  Jesus,  at  this  epoch  of 
his  life,  was  the  little  city  of  Capernaum,  situated  upon 
the  border  of  the  Lake  of  Gennesareth.  The  name 
of  Capernaum  into  the  composition  of  which  enters 
the  word  caphar^  village,”  seems  to  designate  a small 
straggling  town  of  the  ancient  style,  in  opposition  to 
the  great  cities  built  according  to  the  Roman  fashion, 
like  Tiberias.f  This  name  was  so  little  known,  that 
Josephus  in  one  passage  of  his  writings,:]:  took  it  for 
the  name  of  a fountain,  the  fountain  being  more  cele- 
brated than  the  village  which  was  situated  near  it 
Like  Nazareth,  Capernaum  had  no  history,  and  hai  in 
nowise  participated  in  the  unhallowed  progress  favor 
od  by  the  Herods.  Jesus  attached  himself  very  close 
ly  to  this  town  and  made  it  a second  home.l  Soon  af 

• This  title  occurs  eighty -three  times  in  the  Gospels,  and  always  in  the  oia 
•ourses  of  Jesus. 

t It  IS  true  that  Tell-Hum,  which  is  ordinarily  identified  with  Capernaum, 
offers  ruins  of  very  fine  monumenhi.  But,  besides  that  the  identifioation  is 
doubtful,  these  monuments  appear  to  be  of  the  second  and  third  centuries 
after  Clwist. 

X S.  I Matt.,  IX,  1- Mark,  II,  1. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


146 


ter  his  return,  he  had  made  an  effort  at  Nazareth 
which  was  unsuccessful.*  He  could  there  do  no 
mighty  work,  according  to  tlie  naive  remark  of  one  of 
liis  biographers. f The  acquaintance  of  the  Nazarenes 
witli  liis  family,  whicli  was  of  little  note,  was  too  inju 
fioiis  to  his  autliority.  They  could  not  regard  as  the 
son  of  David  one  whose  brother,  sister  and  brother-in- 
law  they  saw  every  day.  It  is  remarkable,  moreover, 
that  his  family  made  strenuous  opposition  to  him,  and 
flatly  refused  to  believe  in  his  mission.:]:  The  citizens, 
far  more  violent,  desired,  it  is  said,  to  kill  him  by 
casting  him  headlong  from  a steep  cliff.j  Jesus  aptly 
remarked  that  this  experience  was  the  common  lot  of 
all  great  men,  and  applied  to  himself  the  proverb  : 
“No  man  is  a prophet  in  his  own  country.” 

This  failure  was  far  from  discouraging  him.  He  re- 
turned to  Capernaum, § where  he  organized  a series  of 
visits  to  the  little  villages  around.  The  people  of  that 
beautiful  and  fertile  country  were  scarcely  ever  united 
except  on  Saturday,  lie  chose  this  day  for  his  teach- 
ings. Each  village  had  then  its  synagogue  or  place 
of  meeting.  This  was  a rectangular  hall,  rather  small, 
with  a portico,  decorated  with  the  Grecian  orders. 
The  Jews  having  no  distinctive  architecture,  had  nev- 
er attempted  to  give  to  their  edifices  an  original  style. 
The  ruins  of  many  ancient  synagogues  still  exist  in 
Galilee.^  They  are  all  constructed  of  large  and  good 
materials ; but  their  style  is  very  mean  on  account  of 

• Matt.,  xni,  64  seqq  ; Mark,  vi,  1 seqq. ; Luke,  iv,  16  seqq. ; 23-24;  John,  iv, 44. 

{Mark,  vi,  5.  Comp.  Matt.,  xii,  58;  Luke,  iv,  23. 

Matt.,  XIII,  67;  Mark,  vi,  4;  John,  vii,  3 seqq. 

Luke,  IV,  29.  Probably  reference  is  here  made  to  the  precipitous  lock  quite 
»ear  Nazareth,  above  the  present  church  of  the  Maronites,  and  not  to  the  pre- 
tended Mount  cf  PrecipUation,  atan  hour’s  distance  from  N azareth.  See  Robinson, 
II  335  seqq  § Matt. , iv,  13;  Luke,  iv,  31. 

f At  Tell-Hum,  at  Irbid  (Arbela),  at  Meiron  (Mero) , at  Jisch  (Giscala),ttt 
Kaeyoun,  at  Nabartein,  and  xwo  at  Kefr-Bereim. 

7 


146 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY, 


that  profusion  of  vegetable  ornaments,  of  foliage  and 
of  twists  which  characterizes  Jewishmonuments.*  In 
the  interior,  there  were  benches,  a chair  for  the  public 
reading,  a closet  to  keep  the  sacred  scrolls.f  These 
edifices,  which  had  nothing  in  common  with  the  tern 
pie,  were  the  center  of  all  the  Jewish  life.  The  peo- 
ple assembled  there  on  the  Sabbath  day  for  prayer  and 
the  reading  of  the  Law  and  the  Prophets.  As  Juda- 
ism, out  of  Jerusalem,  had  no  clergy  proper,  any  per- 
son arose,  read  the  lessons  of  the  day  {parascha  and 
haphtara\  and  added  to  this  a midrasch  or  com- 
mentary, entirely  personal,  in  which  he  set  forth  his 
peculiar  ideas.:]:  This  was  the  origin  of  the  “ homily,” 
of  which  we  find  the  complete  model  in  the  small 
treatises  of  Philo.  Any  one  had  the  riglit  to  make  ob- 
jections and  to  question  the  reader  ; so  the  congre- 
gation soon  degenerated  into  a sort  of  free  assembly. 
It  had  a president,!  “ elders,”§  a Jiazzan^  appointed  read- 
er or  beadle,^^  envoys,”**  a species  of  secretaries  or 
messengers  who  carried  on  the  correspondence  be- 
tween one  synagogue  and  another,  and  a schammasch 
or  sacristan.ff  The  synagogues  were  thus  in  fact  little 

• I dare  not  yet  pronounce  upon  the  age  of  these  monuments,  nor  consequent- 
ly affirm  that  Jesus  taught  in  any  of  them.  What  interest  would  not  be  attached 
to  the  synagogue  of  Tell-Hum  on  such  an  hypothesis!  The  great  synagogue  oi 
Kefr-Bereim  seems  to  me  the  oldest  of  all.  It  is  quite  pure  in  its  style.  That  of 
Kasyoun  bears  a Greek  inscription  of  the  time  of  Septimus  Severus.  The  great 
importance  which  Judaism  assumed  in  Upper  Galilee  after  the  Roman  war  leads 
us  to  believe  that  many  of  these  edifices  date  back  only  to  the  third  century,  when 
Tiberias  became  the  capital  of  Judaism. 

f II  Mdr. , VIII , 4 ; Matt. , xxiii , o ; Jas. , ii , 3 ; Mischna , Megilla , in , 1 : Bosch  hasschavM 
IV , 7 , etc.  See  especially  the  curious  description  of  the  synagogue  of  Alexandria  is 
the  Babylonish  Talmud,  Sukka,  51,  b. 

J Philo,  cited  in  Eusebius,  Preep.  evang. , viii,  7 ; and  Quod  omnisprdbus  liber f § 12 
Luke,  IV,  16;  Acts,  xiii,  15;  xv,  21;  Mischna,  Megilla,  in,  4 seqq. 

If  **  ’A^roVroXoi  or  ayysXoi. 

Aiaxovo^.  Mark,  v,  22, 35  seqq. ; Luke,  iv,  20;  vn,  3;  vni,  41, 49;  xiii,  14 
Adtf  XIII,  15;  XVIII,  8, 17;  Bev.,  ii,  1,  Mischna,  Joma,  vn,  1;  Botch  hastchanat  IT,  1^ 
Tami.  Jeim,  Smhedninj  i,  7;  Epiph.,  Adv.  hcer.y  xxx,  4. 11. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


147 


independent  republics;  they  had  an  extended  juris- 
diction. Like  all  municipal  corporations  up  to  an  ad- 
vanced period  of  the  Roman  Empire,  they  made  hon- 
orary decrees,*  adopted  resolutions  having  the  force 
of  law  over  the  community,  pronouncea  sentence  for 
>enal  offences,  the  executor  of  which  was  ordinarily 
the  Kazzan:\ 

With  the  extreme  activity  of  mind  which  always 
characterized  the  Jews,  such  an  institution,  notwith- 
standing the  arbitrary  severities  which  it  permitted, 
could  not  fail  to  occasion  very  animated  discussions. 
Thanks  to  the  synagogues,  Judaism  has  been  able  tc 
preserve  itself  intact  through  eighteen  centuries  of 
persecution.  They  were  so  many  little  worlds  apart, 
in  which  the  national  spirit  was  preserved,  and  which 
offered  to  intestine  struggle  a field  ready  prepared. 
There  was  expended  an  enormous  amount  of  passion. 
Disputes  of  precedence  were  intense  among  them.  To 
have  a seat  of  honor  in  the  first  row  was  the  recom- 
pense of  a lofty  piety,  or  the  privilege  of  the  rich 
which  was  most  envied.:]:  On  the  other  hand,  the 

liberty,  accorded  to  whomsoever  chose  to  take  it,  of 
constituting  himself  the  reader  and  commentator  of 
the  sacred  text,  gave  wonderful  facilities  for  the  prop 
agation  of  new  ideas.  This  was  one  of  the  great  op- 
portunities of  Jesus  and  the  means  which  he  employed 
most  habitually  to  establish  his  doctrinal  teaching.| 
He  entered  the  synagogue,  and  rose  to  read ; the  ha^ 

• InBCrlptlon  of  Berenice , in  the  Chrp««  inscr.  grrcec. , No.  6361 : inscription  of  Kaf 
jroun,  in  the  Mission  de  Phenicie.  book  IV  [in  press]. 

t Matt.,  V,  25;  x,  17 ; xxiii,  34;  Mark,  xiii,  9;  Luke,  xii,  11,  m,  12;  Acts, xxii,lflL 
Exvi,ll;  II  Cor.,  XI,  24;  Mischna,  Maccoth,  iii,  12;  Talm.  de  Bab. , MeinUa,  7 6 
fipiph.,.4dt). /ket  ,xxx,ll.  > » 

I Matt,  XXIII,  6 James,  ii,  3;  Talm.  Bab.,  51, 6. 

I Matt.,  iv,23,  IX,  35;  Mark,  1,21, 3»; VI, 2;  Luke,  IV,  15, 16, 31, 44; XIII,  10  Joha 


148 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


zan  handed  him  the  book,  he  unrolled  it,  and  reading 
joarasoha  or  the  haplitara  of  the  day,  drew  from 
that  lesson  some  development  conformable  to  hia 
ideas.*  As  there  were  few  Pharisees  in  Galilee,  the 
discussion  against  him  did  not  assume  that  degree  of  in- 
tensity and  that  acrimonious  tone  which,  at  Jerusalem, 
would  have  stopped  him  short  at  the  first  step.  The  good 
Galileans  had  never  heard  discourse  so  adapted  to  their 
cheerful  imaginations.f  They  admired  him,  they  car- 
essed him,  they  believed  that  he  spoke  well  and  that 
his  reasons  were  convincing.  The  most  difficult  ob- 
jections he  resolved  with  authority  ; the  charm  of  his 
speech  and  of  his, person  captivated  th*ese  people  still 
young  and  not  withered  by  the  pedantry  of  the  doctors. 

The  authority  of  the  young  master  thus  went  on  in- 
creasing (lay  by  day,  and,  naturally,  the  more  others 
believed  in  him,  the  more  he  believed  in  himself.  His 
sphere  of  action  was  quite  limited.  It  was^entirely 
confined  to  the  basin  of  Lake  Tiberias,  and  even  in 
this  basin  it  had  a favorite  region.  The  lake  is  twelve 
or  fifteen  miles  long,  by  eight  or  ten  broad ; although 
presenting  tlie  appearance  of  a regular  oval,  it  forms 
from  Tiberias  to  the  entrance  of  the  Jordan,  a kind  of 
bay,  the  curve  of  which  measures  about  eight  miles. 
Here  was  the  field  in  which  the  seed  which  Jesus 
sowed  found  at  length  the  earth  well  prepared.  Let 
us  go  over  it  step  by  step,  endeavoring  to  lift  the 
mantle  of  barrenness  and  death  with  which  the  demon 
of  Islam  has  covered  it. 

On  leaving  Tiberias,  we  find  at  first  rocky  cliffs,  a 
mountain  which  seems  crumbling  into  the  sea.  Then 

• Luke,  IV,  J6  seqq.  Con.p  Mischna,  Joma^  vii,  1. 

f Matt  VII,  28;  xiii.  54;  Mark,  i,  22;  yi,  1;  Luke,  ly,  23,83. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


H9 


the  mountains  trend  away ; a plain  (jEH-Ghowir)  opens 
almost  at  the  level  of  the  lake.  This  is  a delightful 
grove  of  high  verdure,  furrowed  by  abundant  waters, 
which  come  in  part  from  a large  round  basin  of  an- 
tique construction  (Ain-Medawara).  At  the  entrance 
of  this  plain,  which  is  the  country  of  Genesaret  pro* 
per,  is  found  the  miserable  village  of  Medjdel,  At 
the  other  end  of  the  plain  (still  following  the  sea)  the 
site  of  a village  is  encountered  {Khan-Minyeh)^  very 
fine  fountains  a good  road,  straight  and 

deep,  cut  in  the  rock,  which  Jesus  certainly  often  trod, 
and  which  is  the  passage  between  the  plain  of  Genes- 
aret and  the  northern  slope  of  the  lake.  A mile  fur- 
ther on,  we  cross  a little  salt-water  river  {Ain-Tahiga) 
fiowing  out  of  the  earth  by  several  large  springs  a few 
steps  from  the  lake,  which  it  enters  in  the  midst  of  a 
thicket  of  verdure.  Finally,  two  miles  beyond,  upon 
the  arid  slope  which  extends  from  Ain-Tabiga  to  the 
mouth  of  the  Jordan,  a few  huts  and  a cluster  of  racher 
massive  ruins  are  found,  called  Tell-Hum, 

Five  little  cities,  of  which  men  will  speak  forever, 
as  much  as  of  Rome  or  Athens,  were,  in  the  time  of 
Jesus,  scattered  over  the  space  which  extends  from  the 
village  of  Medjdel  to  Tell-Hum.  Of  these  five  vil- 
lages, Magdala,  Dalinanutha,  Capernaum,  Bethsaida, 
and  Chorazin,*  the  first  only  can  now  be  identified 
with  certainty.  The  wretched  village  of  Medjdel 
doubtless  preserves  the  name  and  the  place  of  the  lit- 
tle market  town  which  gave  to  Jesus  his  most  faithful 
friend. f Dalmanutha  was  probably  near  by 4 It  ia 
not  impossible  that  Ohorazin  was  a little  inland  to  the 

♦ The  ancient  Kinnereth  had  disappeared  or  changed  its  name. 

•f  It  is  known  that  it  was  in  fact  very  near  Tiberias.  Talm.  Jems. , MaasaroOk 
ai,  1;  SchebiUf  ix,  l]Erubin,  v,  7.  % Mark,  viii,  10.  Comp.  Matt.,  xv,  39 


160 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


north.*  As  to  Betlisaida  and  Capernaum,  it  is  in  truth 
entirely  by  conjecture  that  they  are  located  at  Telh 
Hum,  at  Ain-et-Tin,  at  Khan-Minyeh,  at  Ain-Meda» 
wara.  It  would  seem  that  in  topography,  as  in  history 
there  has  been  a profound  design  to  conceal  the  trace® 
of  the  great  founder.  It  is  doubtful  whether  we  shal 
ever  succeed,  amid  this  complete  devastation,  in  identi 
fying  the  places  to  which  humanity  would  fain  come 
to  kiss  the  imprints  of  his  feet. 

The  lake,  the  harizon,  the  shrubs,  the  flowers,  these 
are  all  that  remain  of  the  little  region  of  eight  or  ten 
miles  in  which  Jesus  founded  his  divine  work.  The 
trees  have  totally  disappeared.  In  this  country,  where 
the  vegetation  was  Ibrmerly  so  brilliant  that  Josephus 
saw  in  it  a sort  of  miracle, — nature,  according  to  him, 
being  pleased  to  collect  here,  side  by  side,  the  plants 
of  the  cold  latitudes,  the  productions  of  the  torrid 
zones,  and  the  trees  of  the  temperate  climes,  burdened 
all  the  year  with  flowers  and  fruit  — in  this  country,  I 
say,  the  traveler  now  calculates  a day  in  advance  the 
spot  in  which  he  may  find  on  the  morrow  a little  shade 
for  his  repast.  The  lake  has  become  deserted.  A sin- 
gle bark,  in  the  most  miserable  condition,  plows  to-day 
these  waves  once  so  rich  in  life  and  joy.  But  the  waters 
are  still  light  and  transparent.!  The  beach,  composed 

* A-t  the  place  named  Korazi  or  Bir-kerazch,  above  Tell-Hum. 
f The  ancient  hypothesis  which  identified  Tell-Hum  with  Capernaum , althougll 
strongly  attacked  for  several  years  past,  has  yet  numerous  defenders.  The  best 
argument  which  can  be  made  in  its  lavor  is  the  name  itself  of  Teil-Hum,  Tell  eu. 
tering  into  the  name  of  many  villages,  and  possibly  replacing  Caphar.  It  is  im 
possible,  on  the  other  hand,  to  find  near  Tell-Hum  a fountain  corresponding  t^ 
what  Josephus  says  {B.  J. , III,  x,  8) . This  fountain  of  Capernaum  seems  likely 
to  be  Ain-Mcdawara;  but  Ain-Medawara  is  two  miles  from  the  lake,  while  Ca- 
pernaum was  a village  of  fishermen  upon  the  border  of  the  sea  (Matt.,  iv,  IS, 
John,  vi,  17).  The  difficulties  in  regard  to  Bethsaida  are  still  greater;  for  the 
hypothesis  so  generally  admitted  of  two  Bethsaidas,  one  upon  the  western  and 
the  other  upon  the  eastern  shore  of  the  lake,  six  or  eight  miles  apart,  is  a strangs 
one  - ^ .S.  J.,  Ill,  X,  8. 

I B.  J.f  III,  X,  7;  James  dt  Vitri,  in  the  Gesta  Dei  per  Francof,  1, 1076 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


16J 


of  rocks  or  of  pebbles,  is  almost  that  of  a little  sea,  no^ 
that  of  a pond,  like  the  shore  of  Lake  Huleh.  It  ia 
clean,  neat,  without  mud,  always  beaten  at  the  same 
level  by  the  slight  movement  of  the  waves.  Little 
promontories,  covered  with  oleanders,  tamarind  trees, 
and  the  prickly  caper,  complete  the  outline.  At  two 
places  especially,  at  the  egress  of  the  Jordan,  near  Ta- 
richoea  and  at  the  border  of  the  plain  of  Genesaret, 
there  are  intoxicating  parterres,  where  the  waves  die 
away  amid  clumps  of  grass  and  flowers.  The  brook  of 
Ain-Tabiga  forms  a little  estuary  full  of  pretty  shell- 
fish. Clouds  of  swimming  birds  cover  the  lake.  The 
Horizon  is  sparkling  with  light.  The  water,  of  a celes- 
tial azure,  deeply  encased  between  frowning  rocks, 
seems,  when  viewed  from  the  summit  of  the  mountains 
of  Safed,  to  be  in  the  bottom  of  a cup  of  gold.  To  the 
north,  the  snowy  ravines  of  Herinon  stand  out  in  white 
lines  against  the  sky;  on  the  east,  the  high  undulating 
plains  of  the  Gaulonitis  and  of  Peraea,  completely  arid, 
and  clothed  by  the  sun  in  a species  of  velvety  atmo- 
sphere, form  a continuous  mountain-range,  or  rather  a 
long,  elevated  terrace,  which,  from  Caesarea  Philippi, 
trends  indefinitely  towards  the  south. 

The  heat  upon  the  borders  is  now  very  oppressive. 
The  lake  occupies  a depression  of  six  hundred  feet  be- 
low the  level  of  the  Mediterranean,*  and  thus  shares 
the  torrid  conditions  of  the  Dead  Sea.f  An  abundan 
vegetation  formerly  tempered  these  excessive  heats ; it 
is  difiicult  to  comprehend  that  such  an  oven  as  the 
whole  basin  of  the  lake  now  is,  from  the  month  of  May 

♦ This  is  the  estimate  of  Capt.  Lynch  (in  Ritter,  Erd-Tamde,  XV.,  1st  part,  p 
sx) . It  accords  nearly  with  that  of  M.  de  Bertou  (Bulletin  de  la  Soo  de  Choar^ 
Ind  series , XII. , p.  146) . ^ ’ 

t The  depression  of  the  Dead  Sea  is  twice  as  great. 


152 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


was  evei  the  scene  of  such  extraordinary  activity 
JoseplmSy  moreover,  considers  the  country  very  tern* 
perate.*  Doubtless  there  has  been  here,  as  in  ths 
Roman  campagna,  some  change  of  climate,  brought 
about  by  historical  causes.  It  is  Islamisrn,  especially 
tlie  Moslem  reaction  against  the  crusades,  which  has 
blasted,  like  a sirocco  of  death,  the  region  favored  of 
Jesus.  The  beautiful  land  ot  Genesaret  did  not  sus 
pect  that  beneath  the  brow  of  this  peaceful  wayfarer, 
her  destinies  were  swaying.  A dangerous  compatriot, 
Jesus  was  fatal  to  the  country  which  had  the  peril- 
ous honor  of  producing  him.  Become  to  all  an  object 
of  love  or  of  hate,  envied  by  two  rival  fanaticisms, 
Galilee,  as  the  price  of  its  glory,  was  to  be  changed 
into  a desert.  But  who  would  say  that  Jesus  had  been 
happier  had  he  lived  to  the  full  age  of  man,  obscure 
in  his  native  village  ? And  who  would  think  of  these 
ingrate  Nazarenes,  if,  at  the  risk  of  compromising  the 
future  of  their  little  town,  one  of  them  had  not  recog 
nized  his  Father,  and  proclaimed  himself  son  of  God. 

Four  or  five  large  villages,  situated  two  or  three 
miles  apart,  this  then,  was  the  little  world  of  Jesus,  at 
the  period  at  which  we  have  arrived.  It  does  not  ap- 
pear that  he  was  ever  at  Tiberias,  a city  altogether 
profane,  inhabited  in  great  part  by  pagans  and  the  ha- 
bitual residence  of  Antipater.f  ‘Sometimes,  however, 
he  left  his  favorite  region.  He  went  in  a boat  to  the 
eastern  shore,  to  Gergesa  for  example.:}:  Toward  the 

♦ B.  J.y  III,  X,  7 and  8.  f Jos.,  Ant.,  XVIII,  ir,  3;  Vita,  11  13,  64 

X I adopt  the  opinion  of  Mr.  Thomson  (the  Land  and  the  Book,  II,  34.  seqq.), 
according  to  whom  the  Gergesa  of  Matthew  (viii,  28),  identical  with  the  Ca- 
naanite  village  of  Cfirgasch  (Gen.,  x,  16,  xv,  21  ; Devi.,  vii,  1 ; Josh.,  xxiv,  11),  i« 
the  place  now  called  Kersa  or  Gerda  on  the  eastern  shore,  nearly  opposite  Mag 
iala.  Mark  (v,  1)  and  Luke  (vin,  26)  say  Gadara  or  Gerasa  in  lieu  of  Gergesa. 
Qerasa  is  an  impossible  reading,  the  evangelists  apprising  us  that  the  village  ia 
question  was  near  the  lake  and  opposite  Galilee.  As  to  Gadara,  now  Om-Keis, 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


153 


north,  we  behold  him  at  Paneas,  Caesarea  Philipju,^ 
at  the  foot  of  Hermon.  Once,  indeed,  he  made  a 
journey  towards  Tyre  and  Sidon,f  a country  which 
must  then  have  been  marvelously  flourishing.  In  all 
these  regions  he  was  in  the  full  sweep  of  paganism.^ 
At  Caesarea,  he  saw  the  celebrated  grotto  of  the  Paru^ 
ium^  in  which  the  source  of  the  Jordan  was  placed, 
and  which  the  popular  belief  surrounded  with  strange  le- 
gends;! he  could  behold  the  marble  temple  which 
Herod  had  built  near  this  in  honor  of  Augustus  ;§  he 
probably  stopped  before  the  many  votive  statues  to 
Pan,  to  the  Nymphs,  to  the  Echo  of  the  grotto,  which 
piety  had  already  accumulated  in  this  beautiful  place.^ 
An  Evhemerist  Jew,  accustomed  to  regard  strange  gods 
as  divinized  men  or  as  demons,  must  liave  considered 
all  these  figured  representations  as  idols.  To  the  se- 
ductions of  the  naturalistic  worships,  which  intoxicated 
the  more  sensitive  races,  he  was  insensible.  He  had 
not  probably  any  knowledge  that  the  old  sanctuary  of 
MelkarthatTyre,  still  contained  something  of  a primitive 
worship  more  or  less  analogous  to  that  of  the  Jews.** 
Paganism,  which,  in  Phoenicia,  had  reared  on  every 
hill  a temple  and  a sacred  grove,  all  this  appearance  of 
great  industry  and  of  worldly  riches, ff  could  have  had 
little  charm  for  him.  Monotheism  takes  away  all  abil- 

gix  miles  from  the  lake  and  the  Jordan,  the  local  circumstances  given  by  Mark 
and  Luke  hardly  admit  of  it.  It  must  be  understood  besides,  that  Gergesa  may 
have  become  Gerasa,  a name  much  more  known,  and  that  the  topographical 
Impossibilities  presented  by  this  last  reading  may  have  caused  the  adoption  of 
Gadara.  Cf.  Grig.,  Comment,  in  Jbcmn.f  VI,  24;  X,  10;  Eusebius  and  St.  Jeromt 
Jh  situ  ft  nomin.  loc.  hebr. , at  the  words  Tspystfa^  Tspyatfsi, 

♦ Matt.,  XVI,  13  ; Mark,  viii,  27. 

t Matt.  XV,  21:  Mark  vii,  24,  31.  -J  Jos..  Vita,  13. 

j JoB.fAnt.,  XV,  X,  3;  B.  J.  I,  xxi,  3;  III,  x 7;  Benjamin deXudela,p  46,  Edtk 
Asher. 

^ Jos.,  An«.,  XV,  X,  3.  ^ Cbrp^^^nscr.pr.,  Nos.  4537,  4538,4538,  6,  4539. 

^ Lucianus  (ut  fertur) , DeAea  Syria,  3. 

tf  Traces  of  the  rich  pagan  civilization  of  this  time  yet  cover  aU  the  Beled-Be 
Bcnarrah,  especially  the  mountains  which  form  the  g oupof  Cape  Blanc  and  ol 
Cape  Nakoura. 


154 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


ity  to  comprehend  the  pagan  religions ; the  Massulman 
thrown  into  polytheistic  countries,  seems  to  have  no 
eyes.  Jesus,  without  doubt,  learned  nothing  in  these 
voyages.  He  returned  again  to  his  well-loved  shore 
of  Genesaret.  The  centre  of  his  thoughts  was  there; 
there  he  found  faith  and  love. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


15A 


CHAPTER  IX. 

tHB  DISCIPLES  OF  JESUS. 

In  this  terrestial  paradise,  which  the  great  revola* 
tions  had  thus  far  but  little  affected,  dwelt  a population 
in  perfect  harmony  with  the  country  itself,  active, 
honest,  living  a life  of  cheerfulness  and  affection.  The 
Lake  of  Tiberias  is  one  of  the  most  plentifully  supplied 
with  fish.*  Yery  successful  fisheries  were  established, 
especially  at  Bethsaida  and  Capernaum,  which  had 
produced  a certain  competency.  The  families  of  the 
fishermen  formed  a pleasant  and  peaceful  society, 
stretching  by  numerous  bonds  of  relationship  through 
all  the  lake  region  which  we  have  described.  Their 
leisurely  life  gave  large  liberty  to  their  imagination. 
Ideas  in  relation  to  the  kingdom  of  God  found,  in  these 
little  companies  of  simple  people,  more  credence  than 
anywhere  else.  Nothing  of  what  is  called  civilization, 
in  the  Greek  and  worldly  sense,  had  penetrated  among 
them.  They  had  not  our  German  or  Celtic  serious* 
ness ; but,  although  among  them  perhaps  goodness  waa 
often  superficial,  and  without  depth,  their  manners 
were  peaceful,  and  they  had  something  of  intelligence 
and  refinenient.  They  seem  somewhat  analogous  to 

• Matt.,  IV,  18;  Luke,  v,  44  seqq. ; John,  i,  44;  xxi,  1 «e<j^  J08. , J.,  Ill,  x 
I;  James  de  Vitri,  in  the  Q^sUt,  Deij^  Francos^  I,  p.  10T&. 


166 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


tbe  better  populations  of  the  Lebanon,  but  with  the 
capability  which  these  have  not,  of  producing  great 
men.  Jesus  there  found  his  real  family.  He  installed 
himself  among  them  as  one  of  themselves  , Capernaum 
became  his  own  city,*  and  in  the  midst  v-f  the  liUla 
circle  which  adored  him,  he  forgot  his  skeptical  bro 
thers,  ungrateful  Naxareth  and  its  mocking  incredulity 
One  house  especially,  at  Capernaum,  offered  him 
a pleasant  asylum  and  devoted  disciples.  It  was  that 
of  two  brothers,  both  sons  of  a certain  Jonas,  who  was 
probably  dead  at  the  period  when  Jesus  came  to  reside 
upon  the  shore  of  the  lake.  These  two  brothers  were 
Simon,  surnamed  Cephas  or  Peter,  and  Andrew.  Born 
at  Bethsaida,f  they  were  established  at  Capernaum 
when  Jesus  commenced  his  public  life.  Peter  was 
married,  and  had  children ; his  mother-in-law  lived 
with  him.:|:  Jesus  loved  this  house,  and  made  it  his 

home.  I Andrew  appears  to  have  been  a disciple  of 
John  the  Baptist,  and  Jesus  had  perhaps  known  him 
on  the  banks  of  the  Jordan. § The  two  brothers  con- 
tinued still,  even  at  the  time  when  it  seems  that  tliey 
must  have  been  most  occupied  with  their  master,  to 
exercise  the  calling  of  fishermen.^  Jesus,  who  was 
fond  of  playing  upon  words,  said,  occasionally,  that 
he  would  make  them  fishers  of  men.**  In  fact,  among 
all  his  disciples,  he  had  no  more  faithful  adherents. 

Another  family,  that  of  Zabdia  or  Zebedee,  a fisher- 
man in  comfortable  circumstances,  and  owner  of  sovo 
ral  boats,ff  offered  to  Jesus  an  ardent  welcome.  Zob 

* Matt.,  IX,  1;  Mark,  ii,  1-2.  t John,  i,  44. 

JMatt.,  111,14;  Mark,  1,30;  Luke,  iv,  38;  lC7or.,  ix,  5;  I Pet  , v,  13.  Clen 
Alex.,  >S5Jrom.,III,6;  VII,  11;  Pseudo-Clem.,  Recogn.^  VII, 25;  Eusebius,  H.  & 
111,30  II  Matt.,  VIII,  14;  XVII,  24;  Mark,  I,  *x9-31;  Luke,  it,  38 

k John  I,  40  seqq.  ^ Matt.,  iv,  18;  Mark,  i,  16;  Luke,  v,  3*  John.xxi,  I 

Matt.,  IV,  19;  Mark,  i,  17;  Luke,  v,  10. 

Mark,  i,  20;  Luke,  v,  10*  viii,  3;  John,  xix,  27. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


157 


edee  had  two  sons,  James,  who  was  the  elder,  and  a 
younger  son,  John,  who  at  a later  period  was  called 
to  play  so  important  a part  in  the  history  of  early 
Christianity.  Both  were  zealous  disciples.  Salome, 
Zebedee’s  wife,  was  also  strongly  attached  to  Jesus,  and 
accompanied  him  until  his  death.* 

Women,  indeed,  welcomed  him  with  ardor.  He  had 
with  them  those  reserved  manners  which  render 
possible  a very  sweet  union  of  ideas  between  the  sexes. 
The  separation  of  men  and  women,  which  has  prevented 
among  Semitic  nations,  all  delicate  development,  was 
doubtless,  then  as  in  our  dav,  much  less  rigorous  in 
the  country  and  in  villages,  than  in  the  great  towns. 
Three  or  four  devoted  Galilean  women  always  accom- 
panied the  young  master,  and  disputed  among  them- 
selves the  pleasure  of  listening  to  him  and  caring  for 
him  in  turn.f  They  brought  to  the  new  sect  an  ele- 
ment of  enthusiasm  and  of  the  marvelous,  the  impor- 
tance of  which  was  already  perceived.  One  of  these, 
Mary  of  Magdala,  who  has  rendered  the  name  of  her 
poor  little  village  so  famous  in  the  world,  appears  to 
have  been  a very  exalted  person.  According  to  the 
language  of  the  time,  she  had  been  possessed  of  seven 
devils  that  is  to  say,  she  had  been  affected  by  ner- 
vous diseases  apparently  inexplicable.  Jesus,  by  his 
pure  and  gentle  beauty,  calmed  this  troubled  organi- 
zation. The 'Magdalene  was  faithful  to  him  even  to 
Golgotha,  and  on  the  second  day  after  his  death,  takes 
ho  most  prominent  part ; for  she  was  the  principal 
witness  by  which  faith  in  the  resurrection  was  estab- 
lished, as  we  shaLl  see  hereafter.  Joanna,  wife  of 

• Matt.,  XXVII,  56;  Mark,  xv,  40;  xvi,  1. 

j Matt.,  XXVII,  55-56;  Mark,  xv,  40-41;  Luke,  viii,  2-3-  xzill,  49. 
t Mark,  xvi,9;  I uke,  viii,2;  Cf.  2bW^,ui,8;  vi,  U.  . 


168 


ORIGINS  OP  CHRISTY  A.NITY. 


Chuza,  one  of  Antipater’s  stewards,  Susannah,  and 
others  who  remained  unknown,  followed  him  constant- 
ly, and  ministered  unto  him.*  Some  were  rich,  and, 
by  means  of  their  fortune,  placed  the  young  prophet 
‘n  a position  to  live  without  working  at  the  trade 
wliich  he  had  hitherto  followed. f 
Many  more  followed  him  habitually,  and  recognized 
him  as  their  master : a certain  Philip  of  Bethsaida, 
Nathaniel,  son  of  Tolmai  or  Ptolemy  of  Cana,  perhaps 
one  of  the  twelve4  Matthew,  probably  the  same  who 
was  the  Xenophon  of  nascent  Christianity.  Me  had 
been  a publican,  and  as  snch  he  doubtless  liandled  the 
Icalam  with  greater  facility  than  the  rest.  Perhaps  he 
thought  even  then  of  writing  these  Logia\  | which  are 
the  basis  of  all  that  we  know  of  the  teachings  of  Jesus. 
There  are  also  named  among  the  disciples  Thomas,  or 
Didymus,§  who  doubted  sometimes,  but  who  appears 
to  have  been  a man  of  heart  and  of  generous  at- 
tractions a Lebbeus,  or  Thaddeus;  a Simon  the 
Zealot,**  perhaps  a disciple  of  Juda  the  Gaulo- 
nite,  belonging  to  this  party  of  the  Kenaim^  then  ex- 
isting, and  which  was  soon  to  play  so  great  a part  in 
the  movements  of  the  Jewish  people ; finally,  Judas, 
son  of  Simon,  of  the  town  of  Kerioth,  who  was  the  ex- 
ception in  the  faithful  band,  and  drew  upon  himself 
such  appalling  renown.  He  was  the  only  one  who  was 
not  a Galilean ; Kerioth  was  a town  at  the  extreme  south 
I f the  tribe  of  Judah, ff  a day’s  journey  beyond  Hebron. 


• Luke,  VIII,  3,  XXIV,  10.  t viii,  3. 

I John,  I,  44  s^q. ; xxi,  2.  I admit  the  identity  of  Nathaniel  and  the  apostlii 
who  figures  in  the  lists  under  the  name  of  Bar-l%olomew. 
g Papias,  in  Eusebius,  Hist.  Eccl.,  iii,  39. 

£ This  second  name  is  the  Greek  translation  of  the  first, 
i John,  XI,  16;  xx,  24  seqq. 

Matt.,  X,  4;  Mark,  iii,  18;  Luke,  vi,  16;  Acts^  i,  13;  Gospel  of  the  Eblonim,  ii 
Kpiph.,  AOo.  koar.f  XXX;  13  tt  K^ryetein  or  KereiUm, 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


im 


We  havevjseen  that  his  family  was,  in  genera.,  little 
attracted  to  him.*  Tet  James  and  Jude,  his  cousins 
by  Mary  Oleophas,  were  hencefortli  numbered  aixiong 
his  disciples,  and  Mary  Oleophas  herself  was  one  of  tlie 
company  which  followed  him  to  Calvary.f  At  this 
time,  we  do  not  see  his  mother  near  him.  It  is  only 
after  the  death  of  Jesus  that  Mary  acquires  great  con- 
sideration J and  that  the  disciples  seek  to  attach  her  to 
themselves. I Then  also  the  members  of  the  family  of 
the  founder,  under  the  title  of  brothers  of  tlie  Lord,” 
form  an  influential  group,  which  was  long  at  the  head 
of  the  church  of  Jerusalem,^  and  which,  after  the  sack 
of  that  city,  took  refuge  in  Batanea.T  The  mere  fact 
of  having  been  related  to  him  became  a positive  advan- 
tage  just  as,  after  the  death  of  Mahomet,  the  wives 
and  daughters  of  the  prophet,  who  had  had  no  impor- 
tance during  his  life,  became  great  authorities. 

In  this  friendly  company,  Jesus  evidently  had  pre- 
ferences, and,  to  some  extent,  a more  select  circle. 
The  two  sons  of  Zebedee,  James  and  John,  appear  to 
have  occupied  the  first  rank  in  this.  They  were  full 
of  fire  and  passion.  Jesus  had  aptly  surnamed  them 
‘ Sons  of  Thunder,”  because  of  their  excessive  zeal, 
which,  if  it  had  wielded  the  thunderbolt,  would  have 
made  too  frequent  use  of  it.**  John,  especially,  appears 
to  have  enjoyed  a certain  familiarity  with  Jesus.  Per- 
haps this  discipie,  who  afterwards  was  to  write  out  hi 
remembrances  in  a manner  in  which  his  personal  inte 
rest  is  too  apparent,  exaggerated  the  aflfection  'whicli 

♦ The  circumstance  reported  in  John,  xix,  25-27,  seems  to  suppose  that  at  nl 
period  of  his  public  life  did  the  brothers  of  Jesus  attach  themselves  to  him. 

+ Matt  , XXVII,  66:  Mark,  xv,  40;  John,  xix,  25. 

I Acts,  1, 14.  Comp.  Luke,  i,  23;  ii,  3.5,  implying  already  great  respect  for  Mary. 

I John,  XIX,  25  seqq. 

§ See  above,  p.  68,  note  ‘If.  ^ Julias  Africanus  in  Eusebius,  £T.  jE.,  i,  I 

Mark,  iii,  17 ; ix,  37  seqq. ; x,  35  scqq. ; Luke,  ix,  49  seqq. ; 54  seqq. 


160 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY, 


his  master  bore  hirn.*^  It  is  still  more  significant  that 
in  the  synoptic  gospels,  Simon  Barjoiia  or  Peter,  Jaines^ 
son  of  Zebedee,  and  John,  his  brother,  form  a sort  of 
private  circle,  which  Jesus  calls  to  him  at  certain  mo- 
ments when  he  distrusts  the  faith  or  the  intelligence  of  the 
rest.f  It  seems,  moreover,  that  they  were  all  three 
associated  in  their  fisheries.:]:  The  affection  of  Jesua 
for  Peter  was  deep.  Peter’s  character,  straight-for- 
ward, sincere,  and  impetuous,  pleased  Jesus,  who 
sometimes  indulged  in  a smile  at  his  downright  ways. 
Peter,  little  given  to  mysticism,  communicated  to  the 
master  his  simple  doubts,  his  dislikes,  and  his  very 
human  weaknesses,!  with  a frank  honesty  which  reminds 
us  of  that  of  Joinville  towards  St.  Louis.  Jesus  chided 
him  in  a friendly  way,  full  of  confidence  and  esteem. 
As  to  John,  his  youth, § his  exquisite  tenderness  of 
heart,T*  and  his  vivid  imagination,**  must  have  had 
great  charm.  The  personality  of  this  extraordinary 
man,  who  gave  such  a decided  deflection  to  nascent 
Christianity,  was  not  developed  until  later.  In  old 
age,  he  wrote  concerning  his  master,  this  strange 
gospel,ff  which  contains  such  precious  teachings,  but 
in  which,  to  our  conception,  the  character  of  Jesus  is 
falsified  in  many  points.  John’s  nature  was  too 
powerful  and  too  deep  to  be  able  to  stoop  to  the  im- 

* John,  XIII,  23;  xviii,  15  seqq.;  xix,  26-*27;  xx,  2,  4;  xxi,  7,  20  seqq. 

t Matt,  xvii,  1:  xxvi,  37;  Mark,  v,  37;  ix,  1;  xiii,  3;  xiv,  33;  Luke,  ix,  28.  Th€ 
Idea  that  Jesus  had  communicated  to  these  three  disciples  a gnosis  or  secret  doc 
trine  was  broached  at  a very  early  day.  It  is  singular  that  John,  in  ais  Gospeli 
iocs  not  once  mention  his  brother  James. 

t Matt,  IV,  18-:’2;  Luke,  v,  10;  John,  xxi,  2 seqq. 

I Matt.  XIV,  28;  xvi,  21]  Mark,  viii,32  seqq. 

§ He  appears  to  have  lived  until  nearly  the  year  100.  See  his  Gospel,  xxi,  15-23 
and  the  ancient  authorities  collected  by  Eusebius,  H.  E. , in,  20,  23. 

^ See  the  Epistles  which  are  attributed  to  him,  and  which  are  surely  by  th€ 
piame  author  as  the  fourth  Gospel. 

♦*  We  do  not  attempt  to  decide,  however,  whether  the  Apocalypse  is  by^  him. 

ft  The  common  tradition  seems  to  me  sufficiently  justified  upon  this  point.  II 
b evident,  however,  that  the  school  of  John  retouched  his  Gospel  after  him.  (s©f 
the  whole  of  Chap.  xxij. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


161 


personal  tone  of  the  first  evangelists  He  was  the 
biographer  of  Jesus  as  Plato  was  of  Socrates.  Habit 
uated  to  revolve  his  souvenirs  with  the  feverish  rest 
lessness  of  an  exalted  soul,  he  transformed  his  mastei 
while  endeavoring  to  delineate  him,  and  at  times  leads 
ns  to  suspect  (unless  other  hands  have  changed  his 
work)  that  perfect  good  faith  was  not  always  his  rule 
and  his  law  in  the  composition  of  that  singular  produc- 
tion. 

No  hierarchy,  properly  so-called,  existed  in  the  rising 
sect.  All  were  to  call  each  other  ‘‘brethren,”  and 
Jesus  absolutely  proscribed  titles  of  superiority,  such 
as  “ master,”  “ father,”  himself  alone  being  mas- 

ter, and  God  alone  being  father.  The  greatest  should 
be  the  servant  of  the  others.*  Yet  Simon  Barjona  is 
distinguished  among  his  equals  by  a quite  peculiar 
degree  of  importance.  Jesus  lived  with  him  and  taught 
in  his  boat  ;f  his  house  was  the  center  of  the  preaching 
of  the  gospels.  He  was  generally  considered  the  head 
of  the  flock,  and  it  is  to  him  that  the  collectors  of  taxes 
apply  for  the  sums  due  from  the  community.;];  Simon 
was  the  first  who  had  recognized  Jesus  as  the  Messiah.  | 
In  a moment  of  unpopularity,  Jesus  asked  his  disci- 
ples: “Will  ye  also  go  away?”  Simon  answered: 
“ Lord,  to  whom  shall  we  go  ? Thou  hast  the  words  of 
eternal  life.”§  Jesus  repeatedly  accorded  to  him  a 
certain  pre-eminence  in  his  church,^  and  gave  to  him 
the  Syriac  surname  of  Cephas  (Stone),  meaning  thereby 
that  he  made  him  the  corner-stone  of  the  edifice.**  At 
one  time,  even,  he  seems  to  promise  him  “the  keys  of 

• Matt.,  xviii,  4:  xx,  25-26;  xxiii,  8-12;  Mark,  ix,  34;  x,  42-46. 

!Luke,v,3.  JMatt.,xyii,23. 

Matt. , XV4, 16-17.  J olm , vi , 68-70. 

Matt.,x  2;  Luke,  xxii,  32;  John,  xxi,  16  seqq.;  Aoix,  i,  ii,  v,  etc  ; 

18,  a,  7-8.  **  Matt.,  xvi,  18;  John,  i,  42. 


162 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


the  kingdom  of  heaven,”  and  accords  to  him  the  right 
to  pronounce  upon  earth  decisions  which  shall  always 
be  ratified  in  heaven.”*^ 

Undoubtedly,  this  pre-eminence  of  Peter  excited 
6ome  jealousy.  This  jealousy  was  kindled  especiall 
in  view  of  the  future,  in  view  of  this  kingdom  of  God 
where  all  the  disciples  would  be  seated  upon  thrones, 
on  the  right  and  on  the  left  of  the  master,  to  judge  the 
twelve  tribes  of  Israel.f  They  questioned  who  should 
then  be  nearest  to  the  Son  of  man,  acting  in  some  sort 
as  his  prime  minister  and  his  assistant  judge.  The 
two  sons  of  Zebedee  aspired  to  this  rank.  Filled  with 
this  idea,  they  put  forward  their  mother,  Salome,  who 
one  day  took  Jesus  aside,  and  asked  of  him  the  two 
places  of  honor  for  her  sons.:]:  Jesus  averted  the  re- 

quest by  his  habitual  principle,  that  whoso  exalts  him- 
self shall  be  abused,  and  that  the  kingdom  of  heaven 
shall  belong  to  the  little  ones.  This  caused  some  out- 
cry in  the  community ; there  was  great  discontent 
against  James  and  John.f  The  same  rivalry  seems  to 
appear  in  the  gospel  of  John,  in  which  we  behold  the 
writer  incessantly  declaring  that  he  was  the  “ beloved 
disciple  ’’  to  whom  the  master  at  death  confided  his 
mother,  and  systematically  seeking  to  place  himself 
near  Simon  Peter,  at  times  to  put  himself  before  him, 
in  important  junctures  where  the  older  evangelists 
had  omitted  him.§ 

Among  the  persons  mentioned  above,  all  of  whom 
anything  is  known  had  commenced  as  fishermen.  At 

♦ Matt.,  XVI,  19.  Elsewhere,  it  is  true  (Matt.,  XVIII,  18),  the  same  power  ir 
accorded  to  all  the  apostles. 

+ Matt.,  XVIII,  1 seqq. ; Mark,  ix,  S3;  Luke,  ix,  46;  xxii,  30. 

I Matt. , XX,  20  seqq. ; Mark,  x,  35  seqq.  |1  Mark,  x,  41. 

^ John, XVIII,  15  seqq.;  XIX,  26-27;  xx,  2 seqq.*  xxi,  7, 21, 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


163 


all  events  none  of  them  belonged  to  an  elevated  socia. 
class.  Matthew  or  Levi,  son  of  Alpheus,*  had  been  a 
publican.  But  those  to  whom  that  name  was  given 
in  Judea  were  not  the  farmer  generals,  men  of  an  el- 
evated rank  (always  Roman  knights)  who  were  called 
j)uUicani\  at  Rome.  They  were  the  agents  of  those 
farmer-generals,  employees  of  a low  grade,  simple 
land-waiters.  The  great  road  from  Acre  to  Damascus, 
one  of  the  most  ancient  roads  in  tlie  world,  which 
crossed  Galilee  passing  by  the  lake,:]:  greatly  multiplied 
there  this  species  of  employees.  Capernaum,  which 
was  perhaps  upon  the  route,  possessed  a numerous  body 
of  them.j  That  profession  has  never  been  popular;  but 
among  the  Jews  it  passed  for  an  absolute  crime.  The 
tax,  new  to  them,  was  the  sign  of  their  vassalage ; one 
school,  that  of  Juda  the  Gaulonite,  held  that  to  pay 
it  was  an  act  of  paganism.  Thus  the  tax-collectors 
were  abhorred  by  the  zealots  of  the  Law.  They  were 
named  only  in  company  with  assassins,  high- way  rob- 
bers, and  men  of  infamous  life.§  Jews  who  accepted 
such  functions  were  excommunicated  and  became  in 
capacitated  from  making  a will ; their  money-chests 


♦ Matt.,  IX,  9;  x,  3;  Mark,  iii,  18;  Luke,  v,  27;  vi,  15;  Acts.^  i,  13.  Gos- 

pel of  the  Ebionim,  in  Epiph. , Adv.  hcer. , xxx,  13.  We  miist  suppose,  strange  as 
it  may  seem,  that  these  two  names  were  borne  by  the  same  personage.  The  story, 
Matt.,  IX,  9,  formed  after  the  ordinary  model  of  the  legends  of  apostolic  Toca- 
tions,  is,  it  is  true,  somewhat  vague,  and  certainly  was  not  written  by  the  apostle 
In  question.  But  we  must  remember  that,  in  the  present  gospel  of  Matthew,  the 
only  portion  which  is  by  the  apostle,  is  the  Discourses  of  Jesus.  See  Papias,  is 
Eusebius,  Hvit  eccl,  in,  39. 

t Cicero,  Depravinc.  consular ^ 5;  Pro  PlanciOj  9;  Tac.,  ^nn.,  iv,  6.  Pliny,  Bid. 
nat,  XII,  32;  Appian,  Bell.  Civ.,  n,  13. 

J It  remained  celebrated  down  to  the  time  ol  the  crusades,  under  the  name  of 
Via  maris.  Cf.  Isaiah,  ix,  1 ; Matt.,  iv,  13-16j  Tobit,  i,  1.  I think  that  the  road 
eut  in  the  r ck,  near  Ain-et-Tin,  was  part  of  it,  and  that  the  route  turned  thence 
towards  Ihe  Bridge  of  Jacob’s  Daughters,  just  as  it  now  does.  I A portion  of  the  road 
fi'om  Ain-et-Tin  to  this  bridge  is  of  ancient  construction. 

N Matt.,  IX,  9 seqq. 

5 Matt.,  v,  46-47;  ix,  10, 11;  xi,  19:  xviii,  17;  xxi,  31-32,  Mark,  ii,  15-18,  Luke, 
r,  30;  vii,  34;  xv,  1;  xviii,ll;  xix,  7;  Lucien,  Necyaman,  ii;  Dio  Chrysost. 
iimt.  IV,  p 85;  orat  iiv,  p.  269  (edit.  Bmperius);  Mischna,  Neda  im,  in,  4. 


164 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


were  accursed  and  the  casuists  proliibited  the  faithfiv 
from  changing  money  with  them*.  These  poor  men, 
outcasts  from  society,  looked  to  each  other.  Jesus  ac- 
cepted a dinner  which  Levi  offered  him,  and  at  which 
there  were,  according  to  the  language  of  the  times, 
‘many  publicans  and  sinners.”  This  caused  great 
Bcandal.f  In  these  ilbfamed  houses,  one  ran  the  risk  of 
meeting  disreputable  society.  We  shall  often  see  him 
thus,  careless  of  shocking  the  prejudices  of  right-think- 
ing people,  seeking  to  elevate  the  classes  humiliated 
by  the  orthodox,  and  exposing  himself  in  this  manner 
to  the  most  vehement  reproaches  of  devotees. 

Jesus  owed  these  numerous  conquests  to  the  infinite 
charm  of  his  person  ami  his  speech.  A penetrating 
remark,  a look  falling  upon  a simple  conscience, 
which  needed  only  to  be  awakened,  made  for  him  an 
ardent  disciple.  Sometimes  Jesus  made  use  of  an  in- 
nocent artifice,  which  Joan  of  Arc  also  employed.  He 
v'ould  aver  that  he  knew  something  intimately  con- 
cerning him  whom  he  wished  to  win,  or  he  would  re- 
call to  him  some  circumstance  dear  to  his  heart.  It  is 
thus  that  he  touched  Nathaniel, Peter, | and  the  Sam- 
aritan woman. § Dissembling  the  true  cause  of  his 
power,  I mean  his  superiority  over  those  around  him, 
be  suffered  them  to  believe,  in  order  to  satisfy  the 
ideas  of  the  times,  ideas  which  were  moreover  entirely 
his  own,  that  a revelation  from  on  high  discovered  to 
him  their  secrets  and  opened  their  hearts.  All  thought 
that  he  lived  in  a sphere  superior  to  that  of  humanity, 

* Mischna,  Bcbba  Kama^  x,  7 Talm.  of  Jems.,  Demaiy  ii,  3;  Talm.  of 
Vedrin^  25  6.  t Luke,  r,  29  Beqq, 

X John,  I,  48  seqq.  | John,  i.  42. 

4 John,iT,17  8eqq. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


185 

It  was  said  that  he  conversed  upon  the  moimtalns  with 
Moses  and  Elias  ;*  it  was  believed  that,  in  his  mo- 
ments of  solitude  angels  came  to  pay  their  homage  to 
him,  and  established  a supernatural  interccurse  be 
ween  him  and  heaven. f 

• Matt , xrn,  8;  Mark,  ix,  3;  Luke,  ix,  3M1 
tMatt  IT,  11;  Mark,  1, 13. 


I 


166 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY 


CHAPTER  X. 

VHB  8EBMOH8  BT  THB  8BA. 

Such  was  the  group  which,  upon  the  banks  of  the 
Lake  of  Tiberias,  pressed  around  Jesus.  The  aristocracy 
was  represented  by  a tax-gatherer  and  by  the  wife  of 
a steward.  The  rest  consisted  of  fishermen  and  sim- 
ple people.  Their  ignorance  was  extreme ; their  un- 
derstanding was  weak ; they  believed  in  specters  and 
in  spirits.*  No  element  of  Hellenic  culture  had  pen- 
etrated this  first  coenaculum  ; their  Jewish  instruction 
was  also  very  incomplete  ; but  heart  and  good-will  over- 
flowed among  them..  The  beautiful  climate  of  Galilee 
made  the  existence  of  these  honest  fishermen  a perpet- 
ual enchantment.  They  prefigured  truly  the  kingdom 
of  God,  simple,  good,  happy,  rocked  gently  upon  their 
delightful  little  sea,  or  sleeping  at  night  upon  its 
shores.  We  cannot  conceive  the  intoxication  of  a life 
which  thus  glides  away  in  the  presence  of  the  heavens, 
he  glow,  mild  yet  strong,  which  this  perpetual  con- 
act  with  nature  gives,  the  dreams  of  these  niglits 
passed  amid  the  brilliancy  of  the  stars,  beneath  the 
azure  dome  of  the  illimitable  depths.  It  was  during 
such  a night  that  Jacob,  his  head  pillowed  upon  a 
stone,  saw  in  the  stars  the  promise  of  an  innumerable 

• Matt.,  2IY,  20;  Mark,  vi,  49;  Luke,  xxiv,  39;  John, ti,  19. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


167 


|i08terity,  and  the  mysterious  ladder  by  which  the  Elo- 
him  came  and  went  from  heaven  to  earth.  In  the 
time  of  Jesus,  the  heavens  were  not  yet  closed,  nor 
had  the  earth  grown  cold.  The  cloud  still  opened 
over  the  Son  of  man ; angels  ascended  and  descended 
npon  his  head,*  visions  of  the  kingdom  of  God  were 
everywhere ; for  man  carried  them  *n  his  heart.  The 
clear,  mild  eye  of  these  simple  souls  contemplated  the 
universe  in  its  ideal  source ; perhaps  the  world  dis 
closed  its  secret  to  the  divinely  lucid  conscience  of 
these  fortunate  children,  whose  purity  of  heart  made 
them  worthy  one  day  to  see  God. 

Jesus  lived  with  his  disciples  almost  always  in  the 
open  air.  Often  he  went  into  a boat  and  taught  his 
hearers  crowded  upon  the  shore  .f  Sometimes,  he  sat 
down  upon  the  hills  which  border  the  lake,  where  the 
air  is  so  pure  and  the  horizon  so  luminous.  The  faith- 
ful flock  went  also,  cheerful  wayfarers,  receiving  the 
inspirations  of  the  master  in  their  flrst  flower.  An  in- 
nocent doubt  sometimes  arose,  a gently  skeptical  ques- 
tion; Jesus,  with  a smile  or  a look,  silenced  the  objec- 
tion. At  every  step,  in  the  passing  cloud,  the  grow- 
ing grain,  the  yellowing  ear,  they  saw  the  sign  of  tho 
kingdom  at  hand ; they  believed  that  they  were  soon 
to  see  God,  and  be  the  masters  of  the  world ; their 
tears  turned  into  joy,  it  was  the  advent  upon  earth  of 
the  universal  crnsolation. 

Blessed,  said  the  master,  are  the  poor  in  spirit ; for 
Jieirs  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

Blessed  are  they  that  mourn ; for  they  shall  be 
comforted 

^ Joka,  1, 51.  t Matt. , XI  1, 1-^2;  Mark,  ui,  9;  it,  1 ; Luke,  t,  t 


i68 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


Blessed  are  the  meek ; for  they  shall  inherit  the 
earth. 

^‘Blessed  are  they  which  hunger  and  thirst  after 
righteousness ; for  they  shall  be  filled. 

‘^Blessed  are  the  merciful;  for  they  shall  obtai 
mercy. 

Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart ; for  they  shall  see 

God. 

“ Blessed  are  the  peace-makers ; for  they  shall  be 
called  the  children  of  God. 

Blessed  are  they  which  are  persecuted  for  right- 
eousness’ sake ; for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven.”^ 

His  preaching  was  sweet  and  gentle,  full  of  nature 
and  of  the  perfume  of  the  fields.  He  loved  flowers, 
and  he  took  from  them  his  most  charming  lessons.  The 
birds  of  heaven,  the  sea,  the  mountains,  the  plays  of 
children,  were  used  hy  turns  in  his  teachings.  His 
style  had  nothing  of  the  Greek  period,  but  approached 
much  nearer  to  that  of  the  Hebrew  parabolists,  and 
especially  to  the  sayings  of  the  Jewish  doctors,  his  co- 
temporaries, such  as  we  find  them  in  the  Pirke  Aboth, 
His  development  of  his  theme  was  slight,  and  formed 
species  of  snrats  like  those  of  the  Koran,  which,  strung 
together,  afterwards  composed  these  long  discourses 
which  were  written  by  Matthew.f  No  transition  con- 
nected these  diverse  pieces ; yet  ordinarily  the  same 
inspiration  penetrated  them  and  gave  them  unity.  It 
was  especially  in  parable  that  the  master  excelled 
Nothing  in  Judaism  had  given  him  the  model  of  this 
delightful  style.:]:  He  himself  created  it.  It  is  true 

• Matt.,  V,  3-10;  Luke,  vi,  20-26. 

f These  are  what  are  called  theAo^ia  xu  jiaxa.Papias,  in  Eusebius,  H.S,y  iii,  3ft 

X The  apologue,  such  as  we  find  it  in  Judges,  ix,  8 seqq. ; II  Sam.,  iii,  1 seqg. 
has  only  a resemblance  in  form  to  the  evangelical  parable.  The  profouud  orig 
luaiity  of  this  latter  is  in  the  sentiment  which  pervades  it. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


1G9 


that  we  find  in  the  Buddhist  books  parables  of  exactly 
the  same  tone  and  the  same  composition  as  the  Gospel 
parables.  But  it  is  difficult  to  admit  that  a Buddhist 
influence  could  liave  been  felt  in  these. ' The  spirit  of 
meekness  and  the  depth  of  feeling  which  equally  an 
imatod  Buddhism  and  nascent  Christianity,  suffice  per 
haps  to  explain  these  analogies. 

A total  indifference  to  external  inodes  of  life  and  to 
the  vain  appurtenances  of  ‘^comfort,”  which  in  our  se* 
vere  climate  are  a necessity,  was  the  consequence  of 
the  simple  and  pleasant  life  which  was  led  in  Galilee. 
Cold  climates,  by  obliging  man  to  struggle  perpetually 
against  external  nature,  cause  too  much  value  to  be 
attached  to  the  pursuit  of  comfort  and  luxury.  On 
the  contrary,  the  countries  which  awakens  fewest  wants 
are  the  lands  of  idealism  and  poesy.  The  accessories 
of  life  are  there  insignificant  compared  with  the  plea- 
sure of  living.  The  embellishment  of  the  house  is  su- 
perfluous ; men  remain  in  doors  as  little  as  possible. 
The  hearty  and  regular  alimentation  of  less  generous 
climates  would  be  considered  burdensome  and  disa- 
greeable. And  as  for  luxury  of  dress,  how  can  they 
vie  with  what  God  has  given  to  the  earth  and  to  the 
birds  of  the  sky  ? Labor,  in  such  climates  appears 
superfluous;  what  it  yields  is  not  worth  that  which  it 
costs.  The  beasts  of  the  fields  are  clad  better  than 
the  richest  man,  and  they  do  nothing.  i*his  contempt, 
which,  when  it  has  not  sloth  for  its  cause,  contributes 
greatly  to  the  elevation  of  the  soul,  inspired  in  Jesus 
charming  apologues : “ Lay  not  up  for  yourselves 
treasures  upon  earth,  where  moth  and  rust  doth  cor- 
rupt, and  where  thieves  break  through  and  steal,  but 

• See  especially  the  Lotus  de  la  bonne  loi^  oh.  iii  and  IT. 


170  ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

lay  up  f^r  yourselves  treasures  in  heaven,  where  nei 
ther  moth  nor  rust  doth  corrupt,  and  where  thievei 
do  not  break  through  nor  steal:  for  wliere  your  treas- 
ure is,  there  will  your  heart  be  also.*  No  man  cau 
serve  two  masters : for  either  he  will  hate  the  one, 

nd  love  the  the  other;  or  else  he  will  hold  to  the  one, 
and  despise  the  other.  Ye  cannot  serve  God  and  Mam« 
mon.f  Therefore  I say  unto  you,  take  no  thought  for 
your  life,  what  ye  shall  eat,  or  what  ye  shall  drink  ; nor 
yet  for  your  body,  what  ye  shall  put  on.  Is  not  the  life 
more  than  meat,  and  the  body  than  raiment  ? Be- 
hold the  fowls  of  the  air : for  they  sow  not,  neither  do 
they  reap,  nor  gather  into  barns ; yet  your  heavenly 
Father  feedeth  them.  Are  ye  not  much  better  than 
they  ? Which  of  you  by  taking  thought  can  add  one 
cubit  unto  his  stature  ? And  why  take  ye  thought 
for  raiment?  Consider  the  lilies  of  the  field  how  they 
grow  ; they  toil  not,  neither  do  they  spin  ; And  yet  I 
say  unto  you,  that  Solomon  in  all  his  glory  was  not  ar- 
rayed like  one  of  these.  Wherefore,  if  God  so  clothe 
the  grass  of  the  field,  which  to-day  is,  and  to-morrow 
is  cast  into  the  oven,  shall  he  not  much  more  clothe 
you,  O ye  of  little  faith?  Therefore  take  no  thought, 
saying,  what  shall  we  eat?  or  what  shall  we  drink  ? or, 
wherewithal  shall  we  be  clothed  ? (For  after  all  these 
things  do  the  Gentiles  seek,)  for  your  heavenly  Fathei 
knoweth  that  ye  have  need  of  all  these  things. 
But  seek  ye  first  righteousness  and  the  kingdom  of 
God,*]:  and  all  these  things  shall  be  added  unto  you  : 
Take  therefore  no  thought  for  the  morrow ; for  the 

♦ Compare  Talm,  of  Bah..,  Baba  Balhra^  11 , a. 

•f  The  god  of  riches  and  of  hidden  treasures,  a sort  of  Plutus  in  themythalof) 
Of  Phoenicia  and  Syria. 

X 1 9/iopt  here  the  reading  of  Laclimann  and  Tischendorf 


LIFE  OP  JESUS.  171 

morrow  sliall  take  tliouglit  for  the  things  of  itself. 
Sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof.”* 

This  sentiment,  essentially  Galilean,  had  a decisive 
influence  upon  the  destiny  of  the  nascent  sect.  Tho 
first  rule  of  the  happy  flock,  relying  upon  their  heav 
nly  Father  to  satisfy  their  wants,  was  to  regard  the 
cares  of  life,  as  evils  which  stifle  in  man  the  germ  ot 
all  good.:]:  Every  day  they  asked  God  for  the  mor 

row’s  bread.:];  Wherefore  lay  up  treasure  ? The  king 
dom  of  God  is  at  hand.  Sell  that  ye  have  and  give 
alms,”  said  the  master.  “ Provide  for  yourselves  bags 
w^hich  wax  not  old,  a treasure  in  the  heavens  that  faileth 
not.”|  What  is  more  senseless  than  heaping  stores  for 
heirs  whom  you  shall  never  see?§  As  an  example  of 
human  folly,  Jesus  was  fond  of  citing  the  case  of  a 
man  who,  after  having  enlarged  his  barns  and  laid  up 
goods  for  many  years,  died  before  he  had  enjoyed 
them.^  Brigandage,  which  was  veiy  common  in  Gal- 
ilee,** gave  much  force  to  this  view  of  things.  The 
poor,  who  did  not  suffer  by  it,  came  to  regard  them- 
selves as  the  favored  of  God  ; while  the  rich,  having 
no  sure  possession,  were  the  truly  disinherited.  In 
our  society,  established  upon  a very  rigorous  idea  of 
property,  the  position  of  the  poor  man  is  horrible ; he 
has  literally  no  place  under  the  sun.  There  are  no 
flowers,  no  grass,  no  shade,  but  for  him  who  possesses 
tlie  earth.  In  the  East  these  are  the  gifts  of  God 
which  belong  to  no  man.  The  proprietor  has  but  a 
slender  privilege ; nature  is  the  patrimony  of  all. 


* Matt.,  VI,  19-21,  24-54  Luke,  xii,  22-31,  33-34;  xvi,  13.  Compare  the  pro* 
ttspTs,  Luke,  X,  7-8,  full  of  the  same  simple  feeling,  and  TaLm.  of  Bab. , <Soto,48  h. 
t Matt.,  XIII,  22;  Mark,  iv,  19;  Luke,  viii,  14. 

X Matt.,  VI,  11 ; Luke,  xi,  3.  This  is  the  sense  of  the  word 


ILuke,  XII,  33-34.  ft  Luke,  xii,  20. 

••  Jos. , Ant. , XVII,  X,  4 seqq. ; Fiia,  11,  etc. 


f Luke,  XII,  16  seq<| 


172 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


Dawning  Christianity,  moreover,  in  this  did  bill 
follow  the  track  of  the  Esssenes  or  Therapeutes,  and 
tJie  Jewish  sects  founded  upon  life  in  cornmunh 
ties.  A communistic  element  entered  into  all  of  these 
sects,  despised  equally  by  the  Pharisees  and  the  Sad 
dueees.  Messianism,  entirely  political  with  the  orthodo:^ 
Jews,  became  with  them  entirely  social.  By  a temper- 
ate contemplative  existence,  leaving  individual  liberty 
in  full  play,  these  little  churches  thought  to  inaugur- 
ate upon  earth  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Utopias  of 
blissful  life,  founded  upon  the  fraternity  of  man  and 
the  pure  worsliip  of  the  true  God,  preoccupied  lofty 
souls,  and  produced  on  all  sides  essays  bold  and  sin- 
cere, but  of  small  results. 

Jesus  whose  relations  with  the  Essenes  it  is  very 
difficult  to  determine  with  precision  (resemblance,  in 
history,  not  always  implying  intercommunication), 
was  in  this  respect  certainly  their  brother.  Commu- 
nity of  goods  was  for  some  time  the  rule  in  the  new 
society.*  Avarice  was  the  capital  sin  ;f  now  it  must  be 
understo' d that  the  sin  of  ‘‘avarice,”  against  which 
Christian  rule  was  so  severe,  was  then  simple  attachment 
property.  The  first  condition  necessary  for  a disciple 
of  Jesus,  was  to  realize  his  fortune  and  to  give  the 
proceeds  to  the  poor.  Those  who  recoiled  before  this 
extremity  did  not  enter  the  community.:]:  Jesus  re- 

peated often  that  he  who  found  the  kingdom  of  God 
must  purchase  it  at  the  price  of  all  his  goods,  and 
that  in  so  doing  he  yet  made  an  advantageous  bargain, 
“ The  man  who  hath  found  a treasure  in  a field,”  said 
he,  “without  losing  an  instant  goeth  and  selleth  that 

♦ Acta,  IV,  32, 34-37;  v,  1 seqq.  + Matt. , xiii,  22;  Luke,  xii,  16  seqq 

t Matt.,  XIX,  21,  Mark,  x,  21  seqq. ; 29-30;  Luke,  xviii,  22-23, 28. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


173 


he  hath  and  buyeth  that  field.  The  merchantman 
who  hath  found  one  pearl  of  great  price  selleth  all,  and 
buyeth  it.”*  Alas ! the  inconveniences  of  this  regime 
soon  became  manifest.  A treasurer  was  necessary^ 
Judas  of  Kerioth  was  chosen  for  that  oflBce.  Eight- 
fully  or  wrongfully,  he  was  accused  of  stealing  the  com* 
mon  fund  ;f  so  much  is  certain,  that  he  made  a bad 
end. 

Sometimes  the  master,  more  versed  in  the  things  of 
heaven  than  in  those  of  earth,  taught  a political  econ- 
omy still  more  singular.  In  a strange  parable,  a stew- 
ard is  praised  for  having  made  friends  among  the  poor 
at  the  expense  of  his  master,  that  the  poor  in  their 
turn  might  receive  him  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  The 
poor,  indeed,  as  they  are  to  be  the  dispensers  of  this 
kingdom,  will  receive  only  those  who  have  given  to 
them.  A prudent  man,  looking  to  the  future,  should 
therefore  seek  to  win  them.  The  Pharisees,  who 
were  covetous,”  says  the  Evangelist,  ‘‘heard  these 
things  and  they  derided  him.”J  Heard  they  also  this 
terrible  parable  ? “ There  was  a certain  rich  man, 

which  was  clothed  in  purple  and  fiine  linen,  and  fared 
sumptuously  every  day:  And  there  was  a certain  beg- 
gar named  Lazarus,  which  was  laid  at  his  gate,  full  of 
sores.  And  desiring  to  be  fed  with  the  crumbs  which 
fell  from  the  rich  man’s  table : moreover,  the  dogs 
came  and  licked  his  sores.  And  it  came  to  pass,  that 
the  beggar  died,  and  was  carried  away  by  the  angels 
into  Abraham’s  bosom.  The  rich  man  also  died,  and 
was  buried  :|  And  in  hell  he  lifted  up  his  eyes,  being 
in  torment,  and  seeth  Abraham  afar  off,  and  Lazarus 


• Matt.  XIII,  44-46. 
Luke-  XTi,  1>14. 


t John,  XII,  6. 

I See  the  Greek  text. 


174 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


in  his  bosom.  And  he  cried,  and  said,  Father  Abra 
ham,  have  mercj  on  me,  and  send  Lazarus,  that  In 
may  dip  the  tip  of  his  finger  in  water,  and  cool  my 
tongue : for  I am  tormented  in  this  fiame.  But  Abra 
ham  said.  Son,  remember  that  thou  in  thy  life-time  re 
ceiredst  thy  good  things,  and  likewise  Lazarus  evi 
things:  but  now  he  is  comforted  and  thou  art  tor 
mented.”*  What  more  just?  Afterwards  this  was 
called  the  parable  of  the  wicked  rich  man.”  But  it  is 
purely  and  simply  the  parable  of  the  rich  man.”  He 
is  in  liell  because  he  is  rich^  because  he  does  not  give 
his  goods  to  the  poor,  because  he  dines  well,  while 
others  at  his  gate  fare  poorly.  Finally  at  a time  when, 
with  less  exaggeration,  Jesus  presents  the  obligation 
of  selling  one’s  goods  and  giving  them  to  the  poor, 
only  as  a condition  of  perfection,  he  still  makes  this 
terrible  declaration  : It  is  easier  for  a camel  to  go 

through  the  eye  of  a needle,  than  for  a rich  man  to 
enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God.”f 

A feeling  of  wonderful  depth  controled  J esus  in  all 
this,  as  well  as  the  band  of  joyous  children  who  ac- 
companied him,  and  made  him  for  all  eternity  the  true 
creator  of  the  soul’s  peace,  the  great  comforter  of  life. 
In  releasing  man  from  what  he  calls  the  cares  of  this 
world,’’  Jesus  went  to  excess  and  attacked  the  essen- 
tial conditions  of  human  society ; but  he  founded  this 
lofty  spirituality  which  diiring  centuries  has  filled  soul 
with  joy  in  this  vale  of  tears.  He  saw  with  perfec 

» Luke,  XVI,  19-25.  Luke,  I know,  has  a very  decided  communistic  tendency 
(compare  VI,  20-21, 25-26),  and  I think  he  has  exaggerated  this  feature  of  the 
teaching  of  Jesus.  But  the  characteristics  of  the  Ao'yicc  of  Matthew  are  sig- 
nificant. „ , 

t Matt.,  XIX,  24;  Mark,  x,  25;  Luke,  xviii,  25.  This  proverbial  saying  Is  foun4 
In  the  Talmud  (Bab.,  Berakothy  55  &,  Babametsiay  38  6),  and  in  the  Koran  (Sur. 
Fii.  38).  Origen  and  the  Greek  interpreters,  ignorant  of  the  Semitic  proverU 
thought  that  it  related  to  a cable  (xa^i>.o^). 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


176 


clearness  that  the  heedlessness  of  man,  his  want  of 
philosophy  and  morality,  come  generally  from  the 
distractions  into  which  he  allows  himself  to  be  drawn, 
from  the  cares  which  beset  him  and  which  civilizatio 
multiplies  beyond  measure.*  The  Gospel  has  thus 
been  the  supreme  remedy  for  the  sorrows  of  common 
life,  a perpetual  sursum  corda^  a mighty  distraction 
trom  the  wretched  cares  of  earth,  a sweet  appeal  like 
that  of  Jesus  to  the  ear  of  Martha  : Martha,  Martha, 

thou  art  careful  and  troubled  about  many  things;  but 
one  thing  is  needful.’'  Thanks  to  Jesus^  the  most  spiritless 
existence,  that  most  absorbed  in  sad  or  humiliating  du- 
ties, has  had  its  glimpse  of  heaven.  In  our  bustling 
civilization,  the  memory  of  the  free  life  of  Galilee  has 
been  like  the  perfume  of  another  world,  like  a dew 
of  Hermon,”f  which  has  prevented  sterility  and  vuh 
garity  from  compietely  usurping  the  field  of  God. 


« K«lt,ziu,12. 


i Pt.  ozmut  t. 


176 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITT. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

tai  KIKai>OM  OF  QOD  gonceiyed  as  the  ADriV 
OP  THE  POOB. 

These  maxims,  good  for  a country  in  which  the  com 
ditions  of  life  are  free  sunshine  and  the  open  air,  this 
delicate  communism  of  a flock  of  God’s  children,  liv- 
ing in  confidence  upon  the  bosom  of  their  father,  were 
very  well  for  a simple  sect,  persuaded  continually  that 
its  utopia  was  at  the  point  of  realization.  But  it  if 
evident  that  they  could  not  rally  the  mass  of  society 
Jesus,  indeed,  soon  comprehended  that  the  official 
world  of  his  time  would  give  no  countenance  to  his 
kingdom.  He  resolved  upon  his  course  with  extreme 
boldness.  Leaving  all  this  world  to  its  hardness 
of  heart  and  its  narrow  prejudices,  he  turned  to- 
wards the  simple.  A vast  substitution  of  race  is  to 
take  place.  The  kingdom  of  God  is : first,  for  children 
and  for  those  who  are  like  them ; second,  for  the  out- 
casts of  this  world,  victims  of  social  arrogance,  which 
opulses  the  good  but  humble  man ; third,  for  heretics 
and  schismatics,  publicans,  Samaritans  and  pagans  of 
Tyre  and  Sidon.  An  energetic  parable  illustrated  thi 
appeal  to  the  people  and  justified  it:*  A king 
has  made  a wedding  feast  and  sends  forth  his  servants 

• Matt,  XXII,  2 seqq.  Luke,  xiy,  16  seqq.  Compare  Matt.,  tiii,.1M2;  xxi,  3i 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


177 


to  call  them  that  were  bidden.  All  excuse  them 
selves ; some  maltreat  the  servants.  The  king  then 
takes  a decided  stand.  The  proper  persons  would  not 
come  at  his  invitation ; very  well ! it  shall  be  the  peo- 
ple found  in  the  streets  and  lanes,  the  poor,  the  blind 
and  the  halt,  anybody  ; the  house  must  be  tilled,  and 
I swear  to  you,  said  the  king,  that  none  of  those  which 
were  bidden  shall  taste  of  my  supper.’^ 

Pure  Ebionism,  that  is  to  say  the  doctrine  that  the 
poor  {ehionim)  only  shall  be  saved,  that  the  reign  of 
the  poor  is  at  hand,  was  theVefore  the  doctrine  of 
Jesus.  “Woe  unto  you  that  are  rich  I said  he,  for  ye 
have  received  your  consolation.  Woe  unto  you  that 
are  full  1 for  ye  shall  hunger.  Woe  unto  you  that 
laugh ! for  ye  shall  mourn  and  weep.”*  “ When  thou 
makest  a dinner  or  a supper,  said  he  again,  call  not 
thy  friends,  nor  thy  brethren,  neither  thy  kinsmen,  nor 
thy  neigbors ; lest  they  also  bid  thee  again,  and  re- 
compense be  made  thee.  But  when  thou  makest  a 
feast,  call  the  poor,  the  maimed,  the  lame,  the  blind : 
and  thou  shalt  be  blessed  ; for  they  cannot  recompense 
thee : for  thou  shalt  be  recompensed  at  the  resurrec- 
tion of  the  just.”f  It  is  perhaps  in  an  analogous 
sense  that  he  often  repeated : “ Be  ye  good  bankers, 
that  is  to  say  : Make  good  investments  for  the  kingdom 
of  God,  by  giving  your  goods  to  the  poor,  according  to 
the  ancient  proverb  ; He  that  hath  pity  upon  the 
Door,  lendeth  to  the  Lord.”| 

This  was  not,  moreover,  a new  thing.  The  most  ex 
alted  democratic  movement  of  which  humanity  has 

• Luke  VI,  24-25.  f Luke,  xiv,  12-14. 

1 A word  preserved  by  a very  ancient  and  wide  spread  tradition.  Clement  oi 
Alex. , Strom, , 1,  28.  It  is  found  in  Origen,  in  St.  J erome,  and  in  a great  numtei 
•f  the  Fathers  of  the  Church.  | Prov.,xix,17. 


178 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


preserved  the  rememhrance  (the  only  one  also  which 
has  been  successful,  for  it  alone  has  confined  itself  to 
the  realm  of  pure  idea),  had  long  been  agitating  the 
Jewish  race.  The  thought  that  God  is  the  avenger  of 
the  poor  and  feeble  against  the  rich  and  powerful,  is 
found  on  every  page  of  the  Old  Testament.  The  h:s* 
tory  of  Israel  is  of  all  histories  that  in  which  the  pop 
nlar  spirit  has  most  constantly  ruled.  The  prophets, 
true  tribunes  of  the  people,  and  in  one  sense  the  bold- 
est of  tribunes,  bad  thundered  without  ceasing  against 
the  great  and  established  a strict  relation,  on  the  one 
hand,  between  the  words  ^^rich,  impious,  violent  and 
wicked,”  and,  on  the  other,  between  the  words,  “ poor, 
gentle,  humble  and  pious.”*  Under  the  Seleucidae, 
nearly  all  the  aristocrats  having  apostatized  and 
passed  oyer  to  Hellenism,  these  associations  of  ideas 
grew  all  the  stronger.  The  Book  of  Enoch  contains 
maledictions  still  more  forcible  than  those  of  the  Gos- 
pel against  the  world,  the  rich  and  the  powerful,  f 
Luxury  it  presents  as  a crime.  The  ^ Son  of  man  ’ in 
this  strange  Apocalypse,  dethrones  kings,  snatches 
them  away  from  their  voluptuous  life  and  hurls  them 
headlong  into  hell.:}:  The  initiation  of  Judea  into  mun- 
dane life,  the  recent  introduction  of  an  element  of 
luxury  and  ease  altogether  worldly,  provoked  a furious 
reaction  in  favor  of  patriarchal. simplicity.  ‘‘Woe  to 
you  who  despise  the  dwelling  and  the  inheritance  of 
your  father  I Woe  to  you  who  build  you  palaces  with 
fhe  sweat  of  others ! Each  one  of  the  stones,  each 

♦ See,  in  particular,  Amog,  ii,  6;  Is.,  lxiii,  9;  Ps.,  xxv,  9;  xxxvii,  11;  lxix,  33 
ind  the  Hebrew  dictionaries  in  general  at  the  words: 

.pii?  /“J'on  .loy  /oy 

f Ch.  lxii,  lxiii,  xctii,  o,  cit.  X Enoch,  ch.  xlyi^  4-8. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


179 


©Qe  of  the  bricks  thereof  is  a sin.”*  The  name  of 

poor  ” (ehion)  had  become  synonymous  with  ‘‘  saint,” 
and  “ friend  of  God.”  It  was  the  name  which  the 
Galilean  disciples  of  Jesus  loved  to  give  themselves; 
it  was  long  the  name  of  the  Judaizing  Christians  of 
the  Batanea  and  of  Haouran  (Nazarenes,  Hebrews) 
who  remained  faithful  to  the  language  as  well  as  to 
the  primitive  teachings  of  Jesus,  and  who  boasted  of 
possessing  among  them  the  descendants  of  his  family .f 
At  the  close  of  the  second  century  these  good  sectaries, 
who  had  dwelt  without  the  great  current  which 
bore  away  the  other  churches,  are  classed  as  heretics 
(Ebionites),  and  in  order  to  explain  their  name  a pre- 
tended heresiarch  Ebion\  was  invented. 

We  readily  discover,  indeed,  that  this  exaggerated 
taste  for  poverty  could  not  be  very  durable.  It  was 
one  of  those  utopian  elements  which  always  existed 
in  great  foundations,  and  which  time  tempers  to  just 
proportions.  Transported  into  the  broad  medium  of 
human  society,  Christianity  was  one  day  very  readliy 
to  consent  to  take  the  rich  to  its  bosom,  just  as  Budd- 
hism, exclusively  monastic  in  its  origin,  when  conrer- 
sions  began  to  multiply,  soon  came  to  admit  lay  mem- 
bers. But  everything  preserves  the  mark  of  its  origins* 
Although  quickly  laid  aside  and  forgotten,  Ebionism 
left  in  all  the  whole  history  of  Christian  institutions  a 

• Enoch,  xcix,  13, 14. 

f Julius  Africanus  in  Eusebius,  HI  jE?.,  I,  7;  Eua.,  De SUu d nom.  loc.  hdyr.,  at  th 
irord  13a,  Origen,  Contra  Cdsuniy  11,1;  Deprincijnis,  I V , 61 ; Epiph,  Adv.  Jicer. 
XXIX,  7,9;  XXX,  2, 18. 

J See  especially  Origen,  Contra  Cdsum,  II,  1;  De  principiis,  IV,  22.  Compart 
Epiph. , Adv.  hcer, , XXX,  17 . Irenaeus,  Origen,  Eusebius,  and  the  apostolic  Con- 
stitutions are  ignorant  of  the  existence  of  such  a personage.  The  author  of  the 
Philosophumera  seems  to  hesitate  (VII,  34  and  36;  X,  22  and  23.  It  is  through 
Tertullian  and  especially  through  Epiphamus  that  the  fable  of  an  Ebion  wai 
bruited  abroad.  Otherwise  aU  the  Fathers  agree  upon  the  etymolog7 
*E/3 1'wv— 


180 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


leaven  wliich  was  not  lost  The  collection  of  the  Logia 
or  discourses  of  Jesus  was  made  in  the  Ebionite  medi- 
um of  the  Batanea.*  ‘^Poverty remained  an  ideal 
which  tlie  true  lineage  of  Jesus  never  abandoned.  To 
]^>ossess  nothing  was  the  true  evangelical  condition; 
mendicity  became  a virtue,  a sacred  state.  The  great 
Umbrian  movement  of  the  thirteenth  century,  which 
IS,  among  all  attempts  at  religious  foundation,  that 
which  most  resembles  the  Galilean  movement,  was 
made  entirely  in  the  name  of  poverty.  Francis  d’ As- 
sisi, that  man  of  all  the  world  who,  by  his  exquisite 
goodness  and  his  sympathy,  delicate,  refined,  and  ten- 
der, with  universal  life,  has  most  resembled  Jesus,  was 
poor.  The  mendicant  orders,  the  innumerable  com- 
munist sects  of  the  middle  ages  (Pauvres  de  Lyon, 
Begards,  Bons-Hommes,  Fratricelli,  Humiliati,  Gospel 
Poor,  etc.),  grouped  under  the  banner  of  the  “ Eternal 
Gospel,”  professed  to  be,  and  were  in  fact,  the  true 
disciples  of  Jesus.  But  here  again  the  most  impossible 
dreams  of  the  new  religion  were  fruitful.  The  pious 
mendicity,  of  which  our  industrial  and  administrative 
societies  are  so  impatient,  was,  in  its  day  and  beneath 
the  sky  which  comported  with  it,  full  of  charm.  It 
offered  to  a multitude  of  contemplative  and  gentle 
souls  the  only  condition  which  befitted  them.  To  have 
made  poverty  an  object  of  love  and  desii  e,  to  have  lifted 
the  beggar  upon  the  altar  and  sanctified  the  dress  of 
the  man  of  the  people,  is  a master-stroke  at  which  polii 
cal  economy  may  not  be  deeply  touched,  but  before 
which  the  true  moralist  cannot  remain  indiff’erent. 
ITumanity,  to  bear  its  burden,  has  need  to  believe  that 
It  \b  not  fully  paid  by  its  wages.  The  greatest  service 

• Epipb  , Adv.  }uRT  , XIX,  xxix  and  xxx,  especially,  xxix,  9 


LIFE  OF  JESUS.  181 

winch  can  be  rendered  it  is  to  repeat  to  it  often  that  it 
does  not  live  by  bread  alone. 

Like  all  great  men,  Jesus  bad  sympathy  with  the 
people,  and  felt  himself  at  home  with  them.  The 
Gospel  was  made,  in  his  idea,  for  the  poor;  it  is  to 
fhem  that  he  brings  the  good  news  of  salvation.*  All 
the  outcasts  of  orthodox  Judaism  were  his  favorites. 
Love  of  tlie  people,  pity  for  their  weakness,  the  senti- 
ment of  the  democratic  chief,  who  feels  living  in  him 
the  spirit  of  the  multitude,  and  recognizes  himself  aa 
its  natural  interpreter,  constantly  bursts  forth  in  hie 
acts  and  his  discourses. f 

The  chosen  band  presented,  indeed,  a very  motley 
character,  at  which  the  orthodox  must  have  been  great- 
ly astonished.  It  numbered  in  its  bosom  people  with 
whom  a Jew  of  self-respect  would  not  associate.:}:  Per- 
haps Jesus  found  in  this  unconventional  society  more 
distinction  and  more  heart  than  in  a pedantic,  formal 
respectability,  proud  of  its  seeming  morality.  The 
Pharisees,  exaggerating  the  Mosaic  rules,  came  to 
think  themselves  polluted  by  contact  with  people  less 
rigid  than  they ; they  reached  in  their  meals  almost 
the  puerile  distinctions  of  caste  in  India.  Despising 
these  miserable  aberrations  of  religious  sentiment,  Jesus 
loved  to  dine  with  those  who  were  its  victims  ;||  they  saw 
beside  him  persons  who  were  said  to  lead  an  evil  life, 
perhaps,  it  is  true,  for  this  cause  only,  that  they  did 
not  share  in  the  follies  of  the  pretended  devotees.  The 
Pharisees  and  doctors  cried  out  at  the  scandal.  Be 
hold,”  said  they,  with  what  manner  of  men  he  eats  I’ 
Jesus  made,  then,  keen  responses,  which  exasperated 

• Matt  , XI,  5;  Luke,  vi,  20-?l. 

+ Matt  , IX.,  36;  Mark,  vi,  34.  t Matt.,  ix,  10  seqq. ; Luke,  entlr* 

i Matt. , IX  11;  Mark,  II,  16;  Luke,  V 30. 


182 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


tlio  liypocrites  : ‘‘The  whole  need  not  aphj^sician 

or  again  : “The  shepherd  who  hath  lost  one  sheep  out 
of  an  hundred,  leaves  the  ninety  and  nine  to  go  after 
that  which  is  lost,  and,  when  he  hath  found  .t,  he 
bringeth  it  home  upon  his  shoulders  rejoicing  or 
again:  “The  son  of  man  is  come  to  save  that  which 
was  lost or  again : “ I am  not  come  to  call  the 
righteous,  but  sinners  ;”|  finally,  that  delightful  para- 
ble of  the  prodigal  son,  in  which  he  who  has  fallen  is 
presented  as  having  a sort  of  privilege  of  love  over  the 
one  who  has  always  been  righteous.  Women,  weaker 
guilty,  surprised  by  so  much  charm,  and  tasting  for  the 
first  time  the  alluring  contact  of  virtue,  freely  ap- 
proached him.  They  were  astonished  that  he  did  not 
repulse  them.  “ Oh,”  said  the  puritans,  “ this  man  is 
no  prophet;  for  if  he  were,  he  would  perceive  that  the 
woman  who  is  touching  him  is  a sinner.”  Jesus  an- 
swered by  the  parable  of  a creditor  who  forgave  his 
debtors  unequal  debts,  and  he  feared  not  to  prefer  the 
lot  of  him  to  whom  the  largest  debt  was  forgiven. § 
He  measured  souls  only  by  their  love.  Women,  with 
hearts  full  of  tears  and  disposed  by  their  faults  to  feel- 
ings of  humility,  were  nearer  his  kingdom  than  com- 
mon-place natures,  in  whom  it  is  often  little  merit  not 
to  have  fallen.  It  is  easy  to  conceive,  on  the  other 
hand,  that  these  tender  souls,  finding  in  their  conver- 
sion to  the  sect,  a ready  means  of  re-instatement,  be 
eame  passionately  attached  to  him. 

• Matt. , IX,  12.  f Luke,  xv,  4 seqq. 

Matt,  XVIII,  11;  Luke,  xix,  10.  H Matt,  ix,  13. 

Luke,  VII,  36  seqq.  Luke,  who  loves  to  dwell  upon  all  that  relates  to  thi 
pardon  of  sinners  (compare  x,  30  seqq.;  xv,  entire;  xvii,  IG  seqq.;xix  2 seqq.; 
XXIII,  39-43),  has  combined  this  story  with  the  incidents  of  another,  that  of  the 
anointment  of  the  feet,  which  took  place  at  Bethany  some  days  before  Che  death 
of  Jesus  But  the  pardon  of  the  woman  taken  in  adultery  was  undoubtedly  onf 
of  the  essential  features  of  the  anecdotal  life  of  Jesus.  Cf.  John,vii,  i,  3 seqq, 
rai)ias,  in  Eusebius,  Hist  eccl.,  Ill,  39. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


183 


Far  from  seeking  to  check  the  murmuis  which  hia 
contempt  for  the  social  susceptibilities  of  the  times 
aroused,  he  seetned  to  take  pleasure  in  exciting  them. 
Never  did  anyone  avow  more  haughtily  that  disdain 
of  the  ‘‘  world,”  which  is  the  condition  of  great  achieve* 
merits  and  of  great  originality.  He  pardoned  the  rich 
man  only  when,  by  reason  of  some  prejudice,  the  ricli 
man  Vv^as  hated  by  society."^  He  loftily  preferred  people 
oi*  equivocal  life  and  of  little  consideration  to  the  or- 
thodox magnates.  The  publicans  and  the  harlots,” 
said  lie  to  them,  go  into  the  kingdom  of  God  before 
you.  John  came  ; the  publicans  and  the  harlots  be- 
lieved him  ; and  ye,  when  ye  had  seen  it,  repented  not 
afterward,  that  ye  might  believe  him.”f  We  can  un- 
derstand how  cutting  must  have  been  the  reproach  of 
not  having  followed  the  example  of  women  of  pleasure, 
to  people  making  a pi’ofession  of  gravity  and  rigid 
morality. 

He  had  no  extei’ual  affectation  nor  show  of  austerity. 
He  did  not  shun  pleasure ; he  went  gladly  to  marriage 
festivals.  One  of  his  miracles  was  performed  to  en- 
liven a village  wedding.  Those  marriage  parties  in 
the  East  are  held  in  the  evening.  Each  one  carries  a 
lamp ; the  lights  dancing  to  and  fro  produce  a very 
pleasing  effect.  Jesus  loved  this  gay  and  animated 
spectacle,  and  drew  from  it  some  of  his  parables.  J 
When  such  conduct  was  compared  to  that  of  John  th 
Baptist,  it  seemed  scandalous. | One  day,  when  th 
disciples  of  John  and  the  Pharisees  were  observing  a 
fast : ‘‘  Why,”  he  was  asked,  do  the  disciples  of  Joh:i 
and  the  Pharisees  fast  and  pray,  but  thine  eat  aFd 


• Luke,  XIX,  2 seqq. 

I Mark,  ii,  1$;  Luke,  y,  33. 


I Matt.,  XXI,  31-33. 

I Matt.,  XXV,  1 seqq 


184 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


drink?”  ‘^Suffer  them,”  said  Jesus;  ‘‘can  ye  make 
tlie  groomsmen  fast,  while  the  bridegroom  is  with 
tlu  in?  The  days  will  come  when  the  bridegroom  slial 
be  taken  away  from  them;  then  shall  they  fast.”*  Ilis 
gentle  gaiety  was  constantly  expressing  itself  by  lively 
reflections  and  kindly  pleasantries.  Whereunto,” 
aid  he,  “ shall  I liken  this  generation  ? and  to  what  are 
they  like?  They  are  like  unto  children  sitting  in  the 
market-place,  and  calling  one  to  another,  and  saying: 

We  have  piped  unto  you, 

And  ye  have  not  danced ; 

We  have  mourned  unto  you, 

And  ye  have  not  wept.f 

John  came,  neither  eating  nor  drinking;  and  ye  say: 
He  is  a mad  man.  The  son  of  man  is  come  eating  and 
drinking;  and  ye  say:  Behold  a gluttonous  man  and 
a wine  bibber,  a friend  of  publicans  and  sinners.  But 
wisdom  is  justified  of  all  her  works.”:}: 

Thus  he  traversed  Galilee  in  the  midst  of  a perpet- 
ual holiday.  He  rode  upon  a mule,  an  animal  in  the 
East  so  sure  and  good,  whose  large  black  eye,  shaded 
with  long  lashes,  is  full  of  gentleness.  His  disciples 
sometimes  displayed  a rustic  pomp  about  him  at  the 
expense  of  their  garments,  which  took  the  j)lace  of 
carpets.  They  put  these  upon  the  mule  which  bore 
liim,  or  spread  them  upon  the  ground  in  his  path.J 
Wlien  he  alighted  at  a house,  it  was  a rejoicing  and  a 
enediction.  He  stopped  in  the  market-towns  and  at 

♦ Matt.,  IX,  14  seqq. ; Mark,  ii,  18  seqq. ; Luke,  v,  33  seqq. 

+ In  allusion  to  some  children’s  play. 

t Matt.,  XI,  16  seqq. ; Luke,  vii,  34  seqq.  A proverb  which  means  Tht 
opinion  of  men  is  blind.  The  wisdom  of  the  works  of  God  is  proclaimed  only 
by  his  works  tliemselves.’^  I read  with  the  manuscript  B of  the  Vati 

Mn,  and  not  <rsxvojv . 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


185 


the  great  farmhouses,  wliere  he  received  an  assidaoua 
hospitality.  In  the  East,*  the  house  at  which  a stran- 
ger stops,  becomes  at  once  a public  place.  The  whole 
village  assembles  there;  tlie  children  invade  it;  the 
ervants  drive  them  away ; they  return  continually. 
Tesus  could  not  permit  any  to  treat  these  artlecs  aiidi» 
ors  harshly ; he  called  them  to  him  and  embraced 
thera.f  Mothers,  encouraged  by  such  a reception, 
brought  him  their  nurselings  that  he  might  touch  thein.;f 
Women  came  to  pour  oil  upon  his  head  and  perfumes 
upon  his  feet.  His  disciples  repulsed  them  at  times  as 
importunate  ; but  Jesus,  who  loved  old  customs  and  all 
that  indicates  simplicity  of  heart,  repaired  the  evil 
done  by  his  too  zealous  friends.  He  protected  those 
who  desired  to  honor  him.||  So  the  children  and  the 
women  adored  him.  The  reproach  of  alienating  from 
their  families  these  delicate  beings,  always  easily 
charmed  away,  was  one  of  those  oftenest  made  by  his 
enemies. § 

The  infant  religion  was  thus  in  many  respects  a 
movement  of  wmmeii  and  children.  These  last  formed 
about  Jesus,  as  it  were,  a young  guard  in  the  inaugu- 
ration of  his  innocent  royalty,  and  bestowed  little  ova- 
tions upon  him  with  which  he  was  much  pleased,  call- 
ing him  ‘^son  of  David,”  Hosanna^^  and  bearing 

palms  around  him.  Jesus,  like  Savonarola,  used  them 
perhaps,  as  instruments  for  pious  missions ; he  wa« 

* Slatt.,  XXI,  7-8. 

i Matt.,  XIX,  13  seqq.;  Mark  ix,  35;  x,  13  seqq.;  Luke,  xviii,  15-18. 

1 lUd. 

f Matt.,  XXVI,  7 seqq.;  Mark,  xiv,  3 seqq.;  Luke,  vii,  37  seqq. 

§ Gospel  of  Marcion,  addition  to  v,  2 of  ch.  xxiii  of  Luke  (Epiph. , Adv.  har. , 
XLii,  11).  If  the  abridgements  of  Marcion  have  no  critical  value,  it  is  not  tin 
lame  with  his  additions  when  they  may  proceed  not  from  a prejudgment,  but 
from  the  condition  of  the  manuscripts  which  he  used. 

^ The  cry  uttered  in  the  procession  of  the  feast  of  Tabernacles,  w.lile  shakinf 
palms.  Mischna,  SvMca,  ir:,  8.  This  usage  still  exists  among  the  Israelites. 


186 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


pleased  to  see  these  young  apostles,  who  did  not  com 
promise  him,  rushing  in  advance,  and  bestowing  titles 
upon  him  which  he  dared  not  take  himself.  He  did 
not  check  them,  and  when  asked  if  he  heard,  he  re- 
sponded evasively  that  the  praise  which  falls  from 
young  lips  is  the  most  pleasing  to  God.* 

He  lost  no  occasion  to  repeat  that  the  little  ones  are 
sacred  beings, f that  the  kingdom  of  God  belongs  to 
the  little  children,:]:  that  it  is  necessary  to  become  a lit- 
tle child  in  order  to  enter  it,||  that  it  must  be  received 
as  a little  child, § that  the  heavenly.  Father  hides  hia 
secrets  from  the  wise  and  reveals  them  unto  babes. ^ 
To  him,  the  idea  of  his  disciples  is  confounded  with 
that  of  little  children.**  One  day,  when  they  had 
among  themselves  one  of  those  disputes  concerning 
precedence,  which  were  not  rare,  Jesus  took  a little 
child  and  set  him  in  the  midst  of  them,  and  said  : Be- 

hold the  greatest;  whosoever  shall  humble  himself  as 
this  little  child,  the  same  is  the  greatest  in  the  king- 
dom of  heaven. 

It  was  childhood,  indeed,  in  its  divine  spontaneity, 
in  its  innocent  sparkles  of  joy,  which  was  taking  pos- 
session of  the  earth.  All  believed  at  every  moment 
that  the  kingdom  so  intensely  longed  for  was  on  the 
point  of  appearing.  Each  saw  himself  already  seated 
upon  a throne:}::]:  beside  the  master.  They  distributed 
the  places  ;||  they  sought  to  compute  the  day.  It  was 
called  the  Good  News the  doctrine  had  no  other 
name.  An  old  word,  ^aradise^^'^  which  the  HebreW| 

♦ Matt.,  XXI,  15-16.  t Matt., xvni,  5, 10, 14;  Luke,  X7ii,  1 

1 Matt. , XIX,  14;  Mark,  x,  14;  Luke,  xviii,  16. 

J Matt.,  XVIII,  1 seqq.  Mark,  ix,  33  seqq.;  Luke,  ix,  46. 

^Mark,  x,  15  Y Matt.,  xi,  25;  Luke,  x 21. 

Matt.,  X,  45;  XVIII,  5, 14;  Mark,  ix,  36;  Luke,  xvn,  2. 
t+  Matt.,  XVIII,  4;  Mark,  ix,  33-36^  Luke,  ix,  46-48. 

Luke,  XXII,  30.  U I Mark,  x,  37, 40  41. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


187 


(ike  all  the  tongues  of  the  Eaat,  had  borrowed  from  the 
Persian,  and  which  originally  designated  the  parks 
the  Achaernenides,  summed  up  the  dreams  of  all : a 
delightful  garden,  in  which  they  should  continue  for- 
ever the  enchanting  life  that  they  were  leading  hero 
>elow.*  How  long  did  this  intoxication  endui’e?  We 
know  not.  Hone,  during  the  course  of  this  wonderful 
advent,  measured  time  any  more  than  we  measure  a 
dream.  Duration  was  suspended;  a week  was  as  a 
century.  But  whether  it  filled  years  or  months,  the 
dream  was  so  beautiful  that  humanity  has  since  lived 
by  it,  and  it  is  our  consolation  yet  to  w^elcome  its  dimin- 
ished perfume.  Hever  did  so  much  joy  swell  the 
breast  of  man.  For  a moment,  in  this  effort,  the  most 
vigorous  which  it  has  ever  made  to  raise  itself  above 
its  planet,  humanity  forgot  the  leaden  w’eight  which 
fastens  it  to  earth,  and  the  woes  of  life  here  below. 
Blessed  was  he  who  could  see  with  his  eyes  this  divine 
outburst,  and  share,  were  it  only  for  a day,  this  peer- 
less illusion!  But  more  blessed  still  would  Jesus  tell 
us,  he  who,  disenthralled  from  all  illusions,  shall  re- 
produce in  himself  the  heavenly  advent,  and,  with  no 
millennial  dream,  with  no  chimerical  paradise,  with 
no  signs  in  the  heavens,  by  the  righteousness  of  his 
wiL  and  the  poesy  of  his  soul,  shall  create  anew  in  his 
heart  the  true  kingdom  of  God  1 

• Lake,  xxizi;43;  II  Cor.,iu,  4.  Comp.  Conn.  SibyU,,  proom.,86’  eu 

, Ckiffigat  14 


188 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


CHAPTER  XIL 

BKBA.BST  OP  OHN  PROM  PRISON  TO  J P S 17  S . —D  S If  £ 
OP  JOHN  — relations  OP  HIS  SCHOOL  WITH 
THAT  OP  JESUS. 

While  joyous  Galilee  was  celebrating  in  festivals 
tlie  coming  of  the  well-beloved,  the  sorrowful  John,  in 
fiis  prison  of  Machero,  was  wasting  away  with  waiting 
and  with  longings.  The  success  of  the  young  master 
whom  he  had  seen  some  months  before  at  his  school, 
reached  him.  It  was  said  that  the  Messiah  predicted 
by  the  prophets,  he  who  was  to  re-establish  the  king- 
dom of  Israel,  had  come  and  demonstrated  his  presence 
in  Galilee  by  his  wonderful  works.  John  wished  to 
inquire  concerning  the  truth  of  this  report,  and  as  he 
communicated  freely  with  his  disciples,  he  chose  two 
of  them  to  go  to  Jesus  in  Galilee. 

The  two  disciples  found  Jesus  at  the  height  of  hia 
reputation . The  festal  air  which  reigned  around  him 
astonished  them.  Accustomed  to  fasts,  to  pertinacious 
prayer,  to  a life  all  aspiration,  they  were  astounded  to 
find  themselves  suddenly  transported  into  the  midst  cf 
the  rejoicings  of  welcome. f They  gave  Jesus  theii 
message : “ Art  thou  he  who  should  come,  or  do  we 

• Matt. , XI,  2 seqq.  Luke,  vii,  18  seqq.  f Matt  14  seqq. 


LIFE  CF  JESUS. 


189 


look  for  another?”  Jesus,  who  thenceforth  had  little 
hesitation  concerning  his  peculiar  character  as  the 
Messiah,  enumerated  to  them  the  works  which  were 
to  characterize  the  coming  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  the 
iiealing  of  the  sick,  the  good  news  of  speedj  salvation 
preached  to  the  poor.  All  these  works  he  performed 

And  blessed  is  he,”  he  added,  whosoever  shall  not 
he  offended  in  me.”  We  know  not  whether  this  an 
Bwer  found  John  alive,  or  in  what  frame  of  mind  it  put 
the  austere  ascetic.  Did  he  die  comforted  and  certain 
that  he  whom  he  had  announced,  was  already  living, 
or  had  he  still  doubts  concerning  the  mission  of  Jesus? 
We  learn  nothing  in  regard  to  this.  Seeing  his  school 
continue,  however,  for  a considerable  time  by  the  side 
of  the  Cliristian  churches,  we  are  led  to  believe  that, 
in  spite  of  his  consideration  for  Jesus,  John  did  not 
consider  that  he  was  to  realize  the  divine  promises. 
But  death  came  to  cut  short  his  perplexities.  The  un- 
tamable freedom  of  the  recluse  was  to  crown  its  rest- 
less and  persecuted  career  by  the  only  end  which  was 
worthy  of  it. 

The  indulgent  disposition  which  Antipater  had  at 
first  shown  towards  John  could  not  be  of  long  duration. 
In  the  conversations  which,  according  to  Christian  tra- 
ditions, John  had  with  the  tetrarch,  he  constantly  re- 
peated to  him  that  his  marriage  was  unlawful,  and 
that  he  ought  to  put  Herodias  away.*  It  is  easy  to 
imagine  the  hatred  which  the  granddaughter  of  Herod 
the  Great  must  have  conceived  for  this  importunate 
adviser.  She  was  waiting  only  for  an  opportunity  U 
destroy  him. 


• Matt , XIV,  4 seqq.;  Mark,  vi,  18  seqq. ; Luke,  nr,  19 


190 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


Her  daughter,  Salome,  born  of  her  first  marriage, 
and  like  herself  ambitious  and  dissolute,  entered  into 
her  designs.  This  year  (probably  the  year  30),  Anti- 
pater happened  to  be  on  his  birth-day  at  Machero 
Herod  the  Great  had  constructed  in  the  interior  of  tho 
brtress  a magnificent  palace,*  in  which  the  tetrarch 
frequently  resided.  He  gave  a grand  banquet  there 
during  which  Salome  executed  one  of  those  character* 
istic  dances  which  in  Syria  are  not  considered  unbf3* 
coming  a person  of  distinction.  Antipater  was  charmed, 
and  asked  the  dancer  what  she  wished ; she  answered, 
at  the  instigation  of  her  mother:  ‘‘  The  head  of  John 
upon  this  charger.^f  Antipater  was  chagrined  ; but 
he  would  not  refuse.  A guard  took  the  charger,  went 
and  cut  oflf  the  head  of  the  prisoner  and  brought  it  to 
her.:}: 

The  disciples  of  the  Baptist  obtained  his  body,  and 
put  it  in  a tomb.  The  people  were  very  much  discon- 
tented. Six  years  afterwards,  Hareth  having  attacked 
Antipater,  to  retake  Machero  and  avenge  the  dishonor 
of  his  daughter,  Antipater  was  completely  beaten,  and 
his  defeat  was  generally  regarded  as  a punishment  for 
the  murder  of  John.J 

The  news  of  this  deed  was  borne  to  Jesus  by  the 
disciples  of  the  Baptist  themselves.§  The  last  step 
which  John  had  taken  in  regard  to  Jesus,  had  resulted 
n establishing  strict  lines  between  the  two  schools. 
Tesus,  fearing  an  increase  of  ill-will  on  the  part  of  An 
ipater,  took  the  precaution  to  retire  into  the  desert.^ 

• Jos. , Be  Bello  Jud. , VII,  vi,  2. 

f Large  dishes,  upon  which,  in  the  East,  they  serve  liquors  and  meats, 
t Matt.  XIV,  3 seqq.;  Mark,  vi,  14-29;  Jos.,  Ant.y  XVIII,  v,  2. 

I J osephus,  Ani. , XVIII  x,  1 and  2.  § Matt. , xi?,  18. 

\ Matt.,  xiy,  13. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


191 


Many  people  followed  him  thither.  ThaiJcs  to  theif 
extreme  frugality,  the  sacred  flock  lived  there;  tliey 
naturally  believed  that  they  saw  in  that  a miracle.*^ 
From  this  moment;  Jesus  never  spoke  of  John,  but 
^vith  redoubled  admiration.  He  unhesitatingly  de- 
claredf  that  he  was  more  than  a prophet,  that  the  Law 
and  the  ancient  prophets  had  been  in  force  only  up  to 
his  time4  that  he  had  abrogated  them,  but  that  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  would  abrogate  him  in  liis  turn^ 
In  short,  he  gave  him,  in  the  economy  of  the  Christian 
mystery,  a peculiar  place,  which  made  him  the  bond 
of  union  between  the  Old  Testament  and  the  advent  of 
the  new  reign. 

The  prophet  Malachi,  whose  opinion  on  this  enjoyed 
high  consideration,!  had  announced  with  much  force 
a precursor  of  the  Messiah,  who  should  prepare  men 
for  the  final  renewal,  a messenger  who  should  come 
to  smooth  the  way  before  the  chosen  of  God.  This 
messenger  was  none  other  than  the  pr<)phet  Elijah, 
who,  according  to  a wide-spread  belief,  was  soon  to 
descend  from  heaven,  whither  he  had  been  translated, 
to  make  men  ready  bv  repentance  for  the  great  advent 
and  reconcile  God  with  his  people. § Sometimes  with 
Elijah  was  associated  either  the  patriarch  Enoch,  to 
whom,  for  one  or  two  centuries,  a lofty  sanctity  had 
been  attributed,^  or  Jeremiah,**  who  was  considered 
a sort  of  protecting  genius  of  the  people,  continually 
praying  for  them  before  the  throne  of  God.ff  Tliii 
Uea  of  two  ancient  prophets  who  were  to  be  re-ani* 

♦ Matt.,  XIV,  15  seqq.;  Mark,  vi,  35  seqq.;  Luke,  ix,  11  seviq.;  John,  vi,  2 seqq 
t Matt.,  XI,  7 seqq. ; Luke,  vii,  24  seqq.  $ Matt. , xi  12-13;  Luke,  xvi,  1« 

H Malachi,  iii  aud  iv;  Ecclesiast.y  xlviii,  10.  See  above,  oh.  vi. 

%Matt.,  XI,  14;  XVII,  10;  Mark,  vi,  15;  viii,  28;  ix,  10  seqq.;  Luke,  ix,  8, 19. 
t SccUsia^teSy  xliv,  16.  **  Matt. , xvi,  14.  ff  IX  Mac« xv.  13  seqq 


192 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY 


mated  in  order  to  serve  as  precursors  of  the  Messiah^ 
is  found  so  strikingly  in  the  doctrine  of  the  Parsees, 
tliat  we  are  strongly  inclined  to  believe  it  came  from 
that  quarter.^  However  this  may  be,  it  was,  at  th 
time  of  Jesus.,  an  integral  portion  of  the  Jewish  theorie 
if  the  Messiah.  It  was  admitted  that  the  appearance 
of  ‘Hwo  faithful  witnesses,”  clad  in  garments  of  peni- 
tence, would  be  the  prelude  to  the  great  drama  which 
was  to  be  unfolded  to  the  terror-stricken  Universe.f 

We  can  understand  how,  with  these  ideas,  Jesus  and 
his  disciples  could  not  hesitate  concerning  the  mission 
of  John  the  Baptist.  When  the  Scribes  made  this 
objection  to  them,  that  there  could  be  no  question  of 
the  Messiah,  since  Elias  had  not  yet  come:]:,  they  an- 
swered that  Elias  had  come,  that  John  was  Elias  again 
alive. II  By  his  method  of  life,  by  his  opposition  to 
established  political  powers,  John  recalled,  indeed, 
that  wonderful  form  of  the  ancient  history  of  Israel. § 
Jesus  was  inexhaustible  upon  the  merits  and  excellence 
of  his  precursor.  He  said  that  among  the  children  of 
men  there  was  none  born  greater  than  hi}.  He  blamed  the 
Pharisees  and  the  doctors  severely,  that  they  had  not 
accepted  his  baptism,  and  been  converted  by  his  voice.^ 

The  disciples  of  Jesus  were  faithful  to  these  princi- 
ples of  their  master.  Respect  for  John  was  a constant 
tradition  in  the  first  Christian  generation.**  They  sup 
posed  him  to  be  a relative  of  Jesus.ff  To  found  th 
mission  of  Jesus  upon  a testimony  admitted  by  all,  i 

* Texts  cited  by  AT\qiietil-Duperron,  Zend-Avesta,  1,2nd part, p.  46, corrected b 
Spiegel,  in  the  Zsitschr {ft  der  deutschen  morgenloendischen  Gesellschaft,l,2^\&eq(\. 
Extracts  from  the  Jamasp-NaTneh  , in  the  Avesta  of  Spiegel,  I,  p.  34.  None  of  th 
Parsee  texts  which  really  implies  the  idea  of  re  animated  prophets  and  precur- 
gors  Is  ancient;  but  the  ideas  contained  in  these  texts  appear  much  anterior  to 
the  time  of  their  compilation.  f Rev.,  xi,  3 seqq.  | Mark;^  ix,  10. 

I Matt,  XI,  14;  XVII,  10-13;  Mark,  vi,  15;  ix,  10-12;  Luke,  ix,  8;  John,  i,  21-25 

{Luke,  1, 17.  ^ Matt.,  XXI,  o2;  Luke,  VII,  2G-30.  xix,4. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


193 


was  related  that  John,  when  lie  first  saw  Jesus,  pro 
claimed  him  the  Messiah,  that  he  recognized  himself 
his  inferior,  unworthy  to  loose  the  latchets  ot  his 
lioes;  that  he  refused  at  first  to  baptize  him  and  in- 
isted  that  it  was  he  w'ho  should  be  baptized  by 
I esus.*  These  were  however  exaggerations,  which  the 
paestioning  form  of  the  last  message  of  John  suffici- 
ently refute.f  But,  in  a more  general  sense  John  re- 
mained in  Christian  legend  what  he  was  in  reality,  the 
austere  preparer,  the  solemn  preacher  of  penitence 
before  the  joys  of  the  bridegroom’s  coming,  the  pro- 
phet who  announces  the  kingdom  of  God  and  dies  be- 
fore seeing  it.  Giant  of  Christian  origins,  this  eater 
of  locusts  and  of  wild  honey,  this  stern  redresser  of 
wrongs,  was  the  absinth  which  prepared  the  lips  for 
the  sweetness  of  the  kingdom  of  God.  The  victim 
of  Herodias  opened  the  era  of  Christian  I'nartyrs ; he 
was  the  first  witness  of  the  new  conscience.  Worldlings, 
who  recognized  in  him  their  real  enemy,  could  not 
permit  him  to  live;  his  mutilated  corpse,  stretched 
across  the  threshold  of  Christianity,  traced  the  bloody 
way  which  so  many  others  should  pass  after  him. 

The  school  of  John  did  not  die  with  its  founder.  It 
lived  for  some  time,  distinct  from  that  of  Jesus,  and  at 
first  on  good  terms  with  it.  Many  years  after  the 
death  of  the  two  masters,  men  were  still  baptized  af 
ter  the  baptism  of  John.  Some  persons  were  at  the 
larae  time  members  of  both  schools ; for  example,  the 
famous  Apollos,  the  rival  of  Saint  Paul  (about  tiie 
year  50),  and  a considerable  number  of  Christians  of 
Ephesus.:]:  Josephus  attended  (in  the  year  53)  the 


]94 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


Rchool  of  an  ascetic  named  Banou,*  who  presents  the 
greatest  resemblance  to  John  the  Baptist,  and  who 
may  have  been  of  his  school.  This  Banouf  lived  in 
the  desert,  clad  in  the  leaves  of  the  trees  ; he  ate  only 
lants  or  w.Td  fruits,  and  baptized  himself  in  cold  wa* 
*er  frequeutly  during  the  day  and  night  to  purify  him- 
self. James,  he  who  was  called  the  ‘‘brother  of  the 
Lord’’  (there  is  perhaps  some  confusion  of  similai 
names  here),  observed  an  analogous  ascetism.;|:  Aften 
wards,  towards  the  year  80,  Baptism  became  engaged 
in  a struggle  with  Christianism,  especially  in  Asia  Minor. 
John  the  Evangelist  appears  to  combat  it  in  an  indi- 
rect manner.  I One  of  the  Sybil  line  poems  seems  to 
proceed  from  this  school.  As  to  the  sects  of  Hemer- 
obaptists,  Baptists,  Elchasaites,  {Sahians^  Mogtasila  of 
the  Arabic  writers), T who  in  the  second  century  swarm- 
ed in  Syria,  Palestine,  and  Babylonia,  and  the  rem- 
nants of  whom  yet  remain  among  the  Mendaites,  call- 
ed “ Christians  of  St.  John,”  they  are  of  the  same 
origin  as  the  movement  of  John  the  Baptist,  rather 
than  the  authentic  succession  of  John.  The  true 
school  of  the  latter,  half  blended  with  Christianity 
passed  into  a small  Christian  heresy  and  became  eii.- 
tinct  in  obscurity.  John  had  plainly  seen  the  direc- 
tion of  the  future.  If  he  had  yielded  to  a paltry  riv 
airy,  he  would  now  be  forgotten  among  the  multitude 
of  the  sectaries  of  his  time.  By  abnegation,  he  achieved 
glory  and  a unique  position  in  the  religious  pantheon 
ef  humanity. 

• Vitas  2. 

t Can  this  be  the  Bounai  who  is  numbered  by  the  Talmud  (Bab. . Samhedrins  41 
#),  among  the  disciples  of  Jesus.  t Hegesippus,  in  Eusebius,  H.  JB..  II, 

I John,  I,  26,  33;  iv,  2;  I John,  v,  6,  Of.  x,  47. 

b Book  IV.  See  especially  v,  167  seqq.  ^ ^ - 

^ I recall  that  SaUans  is  the  Aramaean  equivalent  of  the  word  Baptif 
UogtasUa  has  the  same  meaning  in  Arabic. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


106 


CHAPTEE  Xm. 


VIBST  attempts  UPON  JEBU841BH. 


Jesus,  nearly  every  ye^r,  went  to  Jerusalem  to  cel- 
ebrate the  feast  of  the  Passover.  The  details  of  each 
of  these  journeys  are  little  known  ; for  the  synoptics 
do  not  speak  of  them,*  and  the  notes  of  the  fourth 
gospel  are  here  very  confused.f  It  was,  as  it  seems, 
in  the  year  31,  and  certainly,  after  the  death  of  John, 
that  the  most  important  visit  of  Jesus  to  the  capital 
took  place.  Many  of  the  disciples  followed  him.  Al- 
though Jesus  attached  even  then  little  importance  to 
the  pilgrimage,  he  conformed  in  order  not  to  wound 
Jewish  opinions,  with  which  he  had  not  yet  brok 
en.  These  journeys,  moreover,  were  essential  to 
his  design ; for  he  felt  already  that,  in  order  to  per 


* They  suppose  them,  however,  obscurely  (Matt.,  xxni,  37  : Luke,  xiii,  34). 
They  know  as  well  as  John  the  relations  of  Jesus  with  Josepn  of  Arimathea. 
Luke  even  (x,  38  42)  knows  the  family  of  Bethany.  Luke  (ix,  51-54) , has  a vague 
perception  of  the  system  of  the  fourth  Evangelist  concerning  the  journeys  of 
Jesus.  Many  discourses  against  the  Pharisees  and  the  Sadducees,  placed  by  thf 
iynoptics  in  Galilee,  have  hardly  any  meaning  except  at  Jerusalem.  Finally, 
the  lapse  of  eight  days  is  much  too  short  to  explain  all  that  must  have  happened 
between  the  arrival  of  Jesus  in  that  city  and  his  death. 

f Two  pilgrimages  are  clearly  indicated  (John,  ii,  13,  and  v,  1),  without  speak- 
ing of  the  last  journey  (vn,  10;,  after  which  Jesus  did  not  return  into  Galileo. 
The  first  had  taken  place  while  John  was  still  baptizing.  It  appertained,  conso 
quently,  to  the  passover  of  the  year  29.  But  the  circumstances  given  as  of  thif 
journey  are  of  a more  advanced  period.  (Comp,  especially  John,  ii,  14  seqq., 
and  Matt.,  xxi,  i2-13;  Mark,  15-17;  Luke,  xix,  45-46).  There  are  evidently 
transpositions  of  dates  in  these  chapters  of  John,  or  more  likely  he  has  confounded 
the  circumstances  of  different  journeys. 


196 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


form  a part  of  the  first  order,  he  must  leave  Galilee 
and  attack  Judaism  in  its  stronghold,  which  was  Jeru 
Salem. 

The  little  Galilean  community  was  here  very  much 
out  of  its  element.  Jerusalem  was  then  nearly  the 
same  as  to-day,  a city  of  pedantry,  of  acrimony,  of 
lisputes,  of  hates,  of  pettiness  of  spirit.  Fanaticism 
was  extreme  and  religions  seditions  very  frequent.  The 
Pharisees  had  the  mastery;  the  study  of  the  Law, 
carried  into  the  most  insignificant  minutiae  and  re- 
duced to  questions  of  casuistry,  was  the  only  study. 
This  culture,  exclusively  theological  and  canonical, 
did  not  contribute  in  any  degree  to  polish  the  mind. 
It  was  somewhat  analogous,  to  the  sterile  doctrine  of 
the  Moslem  faquih,  to  that  empty  science  which  pre- 
vails about  the  Mosque,  a great  expenditure  of  time 
and  dialectics  utterly  wasted,  and  with  no  profit  to  the 
discipline  of  the  intellect.  The  theological  education  of 
the  modern  clergy,  although  very  dry,  can  give  no 
idea  of  that ; for  the  Renaissance  has  introduced  into 
all  our  modes  of  education,  even  the  most  refractory, 
some  portion  of  belles-lettres  and  of  good  method, 
which  has  given  scholasticism  to  a greater  or  less  ex- 
tent, a touch- of  the  humanities.  The  science  of  the 
J ewish  doctor,  of  the  sofer  or  scribe,  was  purely  barbar- 
ous, absurd  without  compensation,  and  stripped  of 
every  moral  element.*  As  a crown  of  calamity,  it 
filled  him  who  had  wearied  himself  in  acquiring  it, 
with  a ludicrous  arrogance.  Proud  of  the  pretendea 
knowledge  which  had  cost  him  so  much  labor,  the 
Jewish  scribe  had  the  same  contempt  for  the  Greek 

♦ We  may  judge  it  by  the  Talmud,  the  echo  of  the  Jewish  scholasticism  of  the 
time. 


LIFE  01  JESUS. 


197 


culture  which  the  Mussulman  savant  has  in  our  day 
for  European  civilization,  and  which  the  old  Catholic 
tlieologian  had  for  the  science  of  the  world’s  people. 
The  characteristic  of  this  scholastic  culture  is  to  close 
he  understanding  against  all  that  is  delicate,  to  giv^e 
value  only  to  the  difficult  puerilities  in  which  life  haa 
een  wasted  and  which  are  upheld  as  the  natural  oo- 
cupation  of  persons  making  a profession  of  depth.* 
This  odious  world  could  not  fail  to  weigh  very  heav- 
ily upon  the  tender  and  delicate  souls  of  the  north. 
The  contempt  of  the  Hierosolymites  for  the  Gali- 
leans rendered  the  separation  still  wider.  In  this  beau- 
tiful temple,  the  object  of  their  desires,  they  often 
found  nothing  but  insult.  One  verse  of  the  psalm 
of  the  pilgrims, f “ I had  rather  be  a doorkeeper  in 
the  house  of  my  God,”  seemed  written  expressly  for 
them.  A disdainful  priesthood  smiled  at  their  artless 
devotion,  as  formerly  the  clergy  in  Italy,  familiarized 
with  the  sanctuaries,  witnessed  coldly  and  almost  jest- 
ingly the  fervor  of  the  pilgrim  come  from  afar  The 
Galileans  spoke  a somewhat  corrupt  dialect ; their 
pronunciation  was  vicious ; they  confounded  the  differ- 
ent aspirates,  which  led  to  mistakes  that  occasioned 
great  laughter.;}:  In  religious  matters,  they  were  con- 

sidered ignorant  and  unorthodox;!  the  expression 
Galilean  block-head,”  had  become  proverbia}.§  It 
was  believed  (and  not  without  cause)  that  the  Jewish 
blood  was  very  much  mixed  among  them,  and  it  wag 
onsidered  to  be  an  axiom  that  Galilee  could  not  pro* 

♦ Jos., ^n<.,  XX,  XI,  2.  t Ps.  Lxxxiv  x'Vulg.,  ixxxiii),  10. 

I Matt.,  XXVI,  73;  Mark,  xiv,  70:  Acts,  ii,  7:  Talitt.  of  Bab.,  Ervbin,  63  a seaq. 
Bereschith  rabba,  25  c.  ’ 

1 Passage  of  the  treatise  Erubin^  preyioasly  cited.  ^ EruUn,  loo.  dt.,  68  i 


198 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


duoe  a prophet.*  Placed  thus  on  the  confir*es  of  Ju 
daism  and  almost  outside,  the  jpoor  Galileans  had  only 
a passage  of  Isaiah  badly  interpretedf  to  sustain  theii 
hopes:  ‘‘The  land  of  Zabulon,  and  the  land  of  Nepli 
talim,  by  the  way  of  the  sea,:]:  Galilee  of  the  gentiles 
Ihe  people  which  sat  in  darkness  saw  great  light;  an 
to  them  which  sat  in  the  region  and  shadow  of  death 
light  is  sprung  up.”  The  reputation  of  the  native  city 
of  Jesus  was  particularly  bad.  It  was  a popular  prov 
erb  : “ Can  there  any  good  thing  come  out  of  Nazar 
eth?”l 

The  utter  barrenness  of  nature  in  the  environs  af 
Jerusalem  must  have  added  to  the  distaste  of  Jesus. 
The  valleys  have  no  water ; the  soil  is  parched  and 
stony.  Looking  down  into  the  depression  of  the  Dead 
Sea,  the  view  is  somewhat  striking,  otherwise  it  is 
monotonous.  The  hill  of  Mizpah  alone,  with  its 
memories  of  the  most  ancient  history  of  Israel,  invites 
the  eye.  The  city  presented,  in  the  time  of  Jesus, 
very  nearly  the  same  aspect  that  it  does  to-day.  It 
had  scarcely  any  ancient  monuments,  for  up  to  the 
time  of  the  Asraoneans,  the  Jews  were  slill  strangers 
to  all  the  arts ; John  Hyrcanus  began  to  embellish  it, 
and  Herod  the  Great  had  made  it  one  of  the  most  su- 
nerb  cities  of  the  East.  The  Herodian  constructions 
<?ied  with  the  most  finished  of  antiquity  by  their 
grand  character,  the  perfection  of  their  execution,  and 
the  beauty  of  the  materials.§  A multitude  of  superb 
tombs,  of  an  original  taste,  were  built  about  the  same 
time  ill  the  environs  of  Jerusalem.^  The  style  of  these 

• Jotm,  Tii,  62.  + IX,  1-2;  Matt.,  iv,  13  seqq, 

t See  above,  p.  163,  note  % , 1|  John,  i , 46. 

Joa.yAnt.,  XV,  viii-xi;  B.  J.,  V,  v,  6;  Mark,  xii,  1-2. 

^ Tombs  called  Tombs  of  the  Judges,  of  the  Kings,  of  Absalom,  of  Zecbarla 


LIFE  OF  JLSUS. 


199 


monuments  was  Greek,  but  adapted  to  tlie  usages  of 
the  Jews,  and  considerably  modified  according  to  theif 
principles.  Ornaments  of  living  sculpture,  which  the 
Herods  permitted,  to  the  great  displeasure  of  th 
rigorists,  were  banished  and  replaced  by  vegetable 
decorations.  The  taste  of  the  ancient  inhabitants  of 
X^hoenicia  and  Palestine  for  monolithic  monumenti 
carved  out  of  the  solid  rock,  seemed  to  be  revived  in 
these  singular  tombs  excavated  in  the  rock,  in  which 
the  Greek  orders  are  so  grotesquely  applied  to  a trog- 
lodyte architecture.  Jesus,  who  considered  these 
works  of  art  a pompous  display  of  vanity,  looked  upon 
all  these  monuments  with  a reproachful  eye.*  His 
absolute  spiritualism  and  his  fixed  opinion  that  the 
form  of  the  old  world  was  about  to  pass  away,  left  him 
no  taste  save  for  the  things  of  the  heart. 

The  temple  in  the  time  of  Jesus,  was  entirely  new, 
and  the  exterior  works  were  not  yet  finished.  Herod 
had  commenced  its  reconstruction  in  the  year  20  or  21 
before  the  Christian  era,  to  make  it  harmonize  with 
his  other  edifices.  The  body  of  the  temple  was  fin- 
ished in  eighteen  months,  the  porticoes  in  eight 
years  ;f  but  the  accessory  portions  were  continued 
slowly  and  were  finished  but  a short  time  before  tha 
taking  of  Jerusalem.;}:  Jesus  probably  saw  men 

working  there,  not  without  some  secret  displeasure 
These  expectations  of  a long  future  seemed,  as  it  were 
an  insult  to  his  speedy  advent.  More  clairvoyant  than 
the  unbelievers  and  the  fanatics  he  divined  that  these 

of  Jehosaphat,  of  St.  James.  Compare  the  description  of  the  tomb  of  the 
eabees  at  Modin  (Macc. , xiii,  27  seqq. 

♦ Matt.,  XXIII,  27,  29;  xxiv,  1 seqq. ; Mark,  xiii,  1 seqq.;  I.uke,  xix,  44,  xxi, 
seqq.  Compare  Book  of  Enoch,  xcvii,  13-14:  Talm.  of  Bab. , Schdbbath.  33  6. 

tJoe.,JLn£.  XV,  XI,  5,  6.  t ibid.,  XX,  ix,  7;  Jolm,  11  n 


200 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY, 

eaperb  constructions  were  destined  for  a short  dur»> 
tion  .* 

The  temple,  however,  formed  a wonderfully  irnpos* 
jng  whole,  of  which  the  present  haram^\  notwith 
landing  its  beauty,  can  hardly  give  an  idea.  The 
c>)urts  and  the  surrounding  porticoes  served  daily  as 
he  rendezvous  of  a considerable  throng,  so  much  so 
that  this  large  space  was  by  times  the  temple,  the 
forum,  the  tribunal  and  the  university.  All  the  reli- 
gious discussions  of  the  Jewish  scholars,  all  the  can- 
onical teachings,  the  trials  even  and  civil  causes,  in  a 
word,  all  the  activity  of  the  nation,  was  concentrated 
liere.:}:  It  was  a perpetual  din  of  argument,  an  arena 

of  disputes,  resounding  with  sophisms  and  subtleties. 
The  temple  had  thus  much  similarity  to  a Moslem 
mosque.  Full  of  respect,  at  this  period,  for  strange  re- 
ligionS;  when  they  remained  upon  their  own  ground,] 
tlie  Romans  forbade  themselves  the  entrance  of  the 
sanctuary ; Greek  and  Latin  inscriptions  marked  the 
point  to  which  it  wr  s lawful  for  non-Jews  to.go.§  But 
the  Antonia  tower  the  head- quarters  of  the  Roman 
force,  commanded  the  whole  enclosure  and  permittee? 
whatever  t3ok  place  within  to  be  seen.^  The  police  reg- 
ulations of  the  temple  appertained  to  the  Jews;  a cap- 
tain of  the  temple  was  entrusted  with  its  superin  ten- 
dance, caused  the  gates  to  be  opened  and  shut,  pre- 
sented anyone  from  crossing  the  enclosure  with  a 

• Matt.  XXIV,  2;  xxvi,  61;  xxvii,  40;  Mark,  xiii,  2;  xiv,  58*  xv,  29*  Luke 
tKi,  C;  John,  II,  19-20. 

f There  no  doubt  that  the  temple  and  its  enclosure  occupied  the  site  of  th< 
Mosque  of  Omar  and  of  the  haram,  or  Sacred  Court,  which  surrounded  th< 
Mosque.  The  terreplein  of  the  haram  is,  in  some  parts,  especially  at  the  plac< 
la  which  the  Jews  meet  to  weep,  the  base  of  the  temple  of  Herod, 
t Luke,  II,  46  seqq. ; Mischna,  Sanhedrin^  x,  2.  ||  Suet.,  Aug,,9Z 

I Philo,  Legatio  ad  Cainm,  § 31;-  Jos.,  B.  J ^ V,  v,  2;  VI,  ii,  4;  Acts,  xxi,  28. 

^ Considerable  traces  of  tlie  tower  of  Antonia  are  yei  seen  in  the  northern  par^ 
of  the  haram. 


LIFE  OF  JESTJS. 


201 


stick  in  his  hand,  with  dusty  shoes,  while  carrying 
packages^  or  to  shorten  the  road."^  Above  all 
there  was  scrupulous  watch  that  none  should  enter 
the  inner  porches  while  in  a state  of  impurity  accord 
ing  to  the  law.  Women  had  an  apartment  entirely 
separate. 

It  was  here  that  Jesus  passed  his  days,  while  he  re- 
mained at  Jerusalem.  The  period  of  the  feasts  brought 
to  this  city  an  extraordinary  influx.  Gathered  into 
messes  of  ten  or  twenty  persons,  the  pilgrims  invaded 
all  places,  and  lived  in  that  disorderly  aggregation  in 
which  the  East  delights.f  Jesus  was  lost  in  the  mul- 
titude, and  his  poor  Galileans  grouped  about  him  made 
but  a sorry  appearance.  He  probably  felt  that  here  he 
was  in  a hostile  world  which  would  receive  him  only 
with  disdain.  All  that  he  saw  repulsed  him.  The 
temple,  much  thronged,  like  places  of  devotion  in 
general,  presented  an  appearance  far  from  edifying. 
The  performance  of  the  rites  involved  a multitude 
of  repulsive  details,  especially  the  mercantile  opera- 
tions, for  which  actual  shops  were  established  in  the 
sacred  enclosure.  Animals  were  sold  for  the  sacrifices ; 
there  were  also  tables  for  the  exchange  of  money  ; at 
times  it  seemed  a bazaar.  The  lower  officers  of  the  tem- 
ple doubtless  performed  their  functions  with  the  irreli- 
gious vulgarity  which  has  marked  sacristans  in  all 
time.  This  profane  and  careless  manner  in  the  con* 
du.,t  of  holy  things  wounded  the  religious  sentiment 
of  Jesus,  which  was  sometimes  carried  even  to  sever' 
ity4  He  said  that  they  had  made  of  the  house  of 
prayer  a den  of  thieves.  One  day  even,  it  is  said, 

• Misebna,  BeraJeoth^  ix,  5;  Talm.  of  Bab. , Jdximoih^  6 6;  Mark,  xi,  16. 

+ Jos.,  jB.  J.,  II,  XIV,  3;  VI,  u,  3.  Comp.  Ps  ,cxxxiii  ( Vulg.,  cxxxil). 

t Mark,  xi,  16 


9* 


202 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


overcome  with  indignation,  he  scourged  these  oasa 
venders  and  overturned  their  tables.*  Upon  the  whole, 
lie  had  little  love  for  the  temple.  The  worship  which 
lie  had  conceived  for  his  Father,  had  nothing  to  do 
with  scenes  of  butchery.  All  these  old  Jewish  insti- 
tutions displeased  him,  and  he  suffered  from  being 
obliged  to  conform  to  them.  So,  likewise,  neither  the 
tempJe  nor  its  site  inspired  pious  sentiments  in  the 
bosom  of  Christianity,  save  among  Judaizing  Chris- 
tians. The  real  new  men  held  in  aversion  this  ancient 
sacred  place.  Constantine  and  the  first  Christian  em- 
perors permitted  the  pagan  constructions  of  Hadrianf 
to  remain.  It  was  the  enemies  of  Christianity,  like 
Julian,  who  held  this  place  in  esteem.:}.  When  Omar 
entered  Jerusalem  the  site  of  the  temple  had  been 
purposely  profaned  out  of  hate  to  the  Jews.J  Islam, 
that  is  to  say,  a sort  of  resurrection  of  Judaism  in  its 
exclusively  Semitic  form,  restored  its  honors.  This 
place  has  always  been  anti-Christian. 

The  arrogance  of  the  Jews  completed  the  discontent 
of  Jesus,  and  rendered  life  in  Jerusalem  painful  to 
him.  In  proportion  as  the  grand  ideas  of  Israel  ma- 
tured, the  priesthood  declined.  The  institution  of 
synagogues  had  given  to  the  interpreter  of  the  Law, 
the  doctor,  great  superiority  over  the  priest.  There 
were  priests  only  in  Jerusalem,  and  there  even,  re- 
duced to  functions  entirely  ritual,  much  like  our  par- 
ish priests  who  are  excluded  from  preaching,  they 
wore  over-awed  by  the  orator  of  the  synagogue,  the 

Matt. , XXI,  12  seqq. ; Mark,  xi,  15  seqq.;  Luke,  xix,  45  seqq. , John,  ii,  14  seqq 
t Itin.  a Burdig.  Himw.,  p.  162  (edit.  Schott) ; St.  Jerome,  in  Ifl.,  w,  8,  and  is 
ICatt.,  XXIV,  15. 

{Ammianus  Marcellinus,  XXIII,  4. 

FiUtychius,  Ann. , ii,  286  seqq.  (Oxfoid,  1659). 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


203 


casiiigfc,  the  sofer  or  scribe,  laym  an  as  he  was.  The 
celebrated  men  of  the  Talmud  are  not  j^riests ; tliej 
are  learned  men,  according  to  the  ideas  of  the  time. 
The  high  priest  of  Jerusalem  held,  it  is  true,  a rank 
rery  elevated  in  the  nation,  but  he  was  by  no  mean 
at  the  head  of  the  religious  movement.  The  sovereigi 
pontiff,  whose  dignity  had  already  been  degraded  b) 
Herod,*  became  more  and  more  a Eoman  function 
ary,f  who  was  recalled  frequently  in  order  to  rendei 
the  charge  profitable  to  many.  Opposed  to  the  Phar- 
isees, highly  exalted  lay  zealots,  the  priests  were 
nearly  all  Sadducees,  that  is  to  say,  members  of  this 
incredulous  aristocracy  which  had.  formed  around  the 
temple  and  lived  by  the  altar,  but  saw  its  vanity.^  The 
sacerdotal  caste  was  separated  so  widely  from  the  na 
tional  sentiment  and  the  great  religious  tide  which 
swayed  the  people,  that  the  name  of  Sadducee  (xSa- 
doki\  which  at  first  designated  simply  a member  of 
the  sacerdotal  family  of  Sadok,  had  become  synony 
mons  with  “materialist”  and  “ Epicurean.” 

A still  worse  element  had  begun,  since  the  reign  of 
Herod  the  Great,  to  corrupt  the  high-priesthood 
Herod  having  become  enamoured  of  Mariamne,  daugh- 
ter of  Simon,  himself  the  son  of  Boethus  of  Alexan- 
dria, and  desiring  to  marry  her  (towards  the  year  28 
B.  C.),  saw  no  other  way  to  ennoble  his  father-in-law 
and  raise  him  to  his  own  level,  but  by  making  hinj 
high-priest.  This  intriguing  family  continued  master 
almost  without  interruption,  of  the  sovereign  pontifi 
cate  for  thirty-five  years. j Closely  allied  to  the  reign 
ing  family,  it  lost  it  only  after  the  deposition  of  Archo 

• Jos.,^n«-,  XV,  III,  1,  3.  f Jos.,  Ant.^  xtiii,  11; 

{AcU^  IV,  1 seqq  ; v,  17;  Jos.,  Ant.,  XX,  ix,  1;  PirTce  Aboth,  i,  10. 

Job.,  Ant.f  XV,  ix,  3;  XVII,  vi,  4;  xiii,  1;  XVIII,  i,  1;  ii,l;  XIX,  vi  vin,  1 


204 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


laus,  ai-d  recovered  it  (A.  D.  42)  after  Herod  Agrippii 
had  for  some  time  been  restoring  the  work  of  Herod 
the  Great.  Under  the  name  of  £oethus{m^^  was  thus 
formed  a new  sacerdotal  nobility,  very  worldly  and 
Jittle  devout,  which  almost  coalesced  with  the  Sado- 
kites.  The  Boethmim^  in  the  Talmud  and  the  rabbin 
ical  writings,  are  set  forth  as  a species  of  infidels  and 
alwaj^s  in  company  with  the  Sadducees.f  From  all 
this  resulted  about  the  temple  a species  of  Court  of 
Rome,  living  by  politics,  little  sympathetic  with  ex 
cesses  of  zeal,  dreading  them  even,  indisposed  to  hear 
of  holy  personages  or  of  innovators,  for  its  profit  lay 
in  the  established  routine.  These  epicurean  prie^jts 
had  not  the  violence  of  the  Pharisees ; they  cared  only 
for  repose ; it  was  their  moral  carelessness,  their  chill- 
ing irreligion  at  which  Jesus  revolted.  Although 
very  dififerent,  the  priests  and  the  Pharisees  were  thus 
united  in  his  antipathies.  But,  a stranger  and  withou 
infl.uence,  he  was  long  compelled  to  lock  his  discontent 
within  himself,  and  to  communicate  his  sentiments 
only  to  the  intimate  society  which  accompanied  him. 

Before  the  last  visit,  which  was  by  far  the  longest 
of  all  that  he  made  to  Jerusalem,  and  which  terminated 
in  his  death,  Jesus  endeavored,  however,  to  make  him- 
self heard.  He  preached ; he  was  talked  of ; people 
spoke  about  certain  acts  which  were  considered  mirac 

* This  name  is  found  only  in  the  Jewish  documents.  I think  that  the  Hero* 
dians  ” of  the  Gospel  are  the  Bodhusim. 

t Treatise  Ahoth Nathan^  5;  SofeHm,  in,  hal.,  5;  Mischna,  Menachothy  x,  3;  Talm 
ff  Bab.,  Schdbbath,  118  a.  The  name  of  the  Bodhusim  is  often  exchanged  in  thf 
Talmudic  books  with  that  of  the  Sadducees,  or  with  the  word  Minim  (heretics). 
Compare  Thosiphta  Joma  i,  with  Talm.  of  Jerus..  same  treatise,  i,  and  Talm 
of  Bab.,  same  treatise,  19  h;  Thos.  Sukka,  iii,  with  Talm.  of  Bab.,  same  treatise, 
40  h;  Thos.  ibid. , farther  on , with  Talm.  of  Bab. , same  treatise,  48  6;  Thos.  Rosch^ 
hasschana,  i,  with  Mischna,  same  treatise,  ii,  1,  Talm  of  Jerus.,  same  treatise,  ii, 
1,  and  Talm.  of  Bab. , same  treatise,  22  5;  Thos.  Menataothy  x,  with  Mischna,  sam< 
treatise,  x,  3;  Talm.  of  Bab.,  same  treatise,  65  a,  Mischna,  Chagigay  ii,  4,  and  Me 
sillath  Taanith,  I;  Thos.  /adam.  ii,  with  Talm  of  Jerus  , BcUhray  Yiii,  1 
Talm.  of  Bab.,  same  treatise,  115  h and  Megillath  Taanith,  v. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


2x)6 


qIous.  But  from  all  this  resulted  no  established  church 
at  Jerusalem,  no  gronpof  Ilierosolyrnite  disciples.  The 
charming  teaclier,  who  pardoned  all  if  they  only  loved 
him,  found  feeble  echo  in  this  sanctuary  of  vain  dis 
utes  and  obsolete  sacrifices.  Its  result  to  him  was 
)nly  certain  advantageous  relations,  the  fruits  of  which 
he  afterwards  reaped.  It  does  not  appear  that  he  then 
made  the  acquaintance  of  the  family  of  Bethany  which 
gave  him,  in  the  midst  of  the  trials  of  his  last  months, 
BO  much  consolation.  But  at  an  early  period  he  at- 
tracted the  attention  of  a certain  Nicodernus,  a rich 
Pharisee,  member  of  tlie  Sanhedrin,  and  much  thought 
of  at  Jerusalem.*  This  man,  who  appears  to  have 
been  honorable  and  earnest,  felt  an  attraction  towards 
the  young  Galilean.  Not  wishing  to  compromise  him 
self,  he  came  to  see  him  by  night,  and  had  a long  con 
versation.f  He  received,  doubtless,  a favorable  im- 
pression from  it,  for  at  a later  period  he  defended  Jesus 
against  the  accusations  of  his  fellow  Pharisees,:!:  and, 
after  the  death  of  Jesus,  we  find  him  surrounding  with 
his  pious  cares  the  dead  body  of  themaster.|  Isicodc 
mus  did  not  become  a Christian  ; he  thought  it  due  to 
his  position  not  to  enter  into  a revolutionary  move- 
ment, which  as  yet  numbered  no  notable  adherents. 
But  he  bore  evidently  much  friendship  for  Jesus,  and 
rendered  him  some  services,  though  unable  to  snatch 
him  from  a death  the  fiat  of  which,  at  the  period  which 
we  have  now  reached,  was  already  written. 

♦ It  8eeins  that  there  is  lome  question  concerning  him  in  the  Talmud.  Talm 
Bab.,  Thanith,  20  a;  Gfittin,  56  a;  Ketuboth,  66  b;  treatise  Aboth  Nathan^  vil;  Mid 
rasch  rabba,  Eka,  64  o.  The  passage  Taanith  identifies  him  with  Bounai,  who,  ac* 
eording  to  Sanhediin  (see  above,  p.  194, note  f),  was  a disciple  of  Jesus.  But  il 
Bounai  is  the  Banou  of  Josephus,  this  conjunction  is  without  force. 

f John  III,  1 seqq  ; vii,  50.  We  are  certainly  at  liberty  to  believe  that  the 
text  even  of  the  conversation  is  only  a creation  of  John. 

1 John,  vn,  50  seqq.  Q John,  xix,  39, 


206 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


As  to  the  famous  doctors  of  the  time,  Jesus  app.^ari 
not -to  have  had  any  communication  with  them.  Hillel 
and  Schammai  were  dead ; the  greatest  authority  of 
tlie  time  was  Gamaliel,  grandson  of  Hillel.  He  was 
liberal  in  mind,  and  a man  of  the  world,  open  to  pro- 
fane studies,  and  inclined  to  tolerance  by  his  intercourse 
with  the  best  society.*  Contrary  to  the  strict  Phari- 
sees, who  walked  veiled  or  with  closed  eyes,  he  looked 
at  women,  even  pagans.f  Tradition  pardoned  this  to 
him,  as  well  as  his  knowledge  of  Greek,  because  he 
had  access  to  the  court.:]:  After  the  death  of  J esus,  he  ex- 
pressed very  moderate  views  concerning  the  new  sect.j 
St.  Paul  came  from  his  school. § But  it  is  highly  pro- 
bable that  Jesus  never  entered  it. 

One  idea  at  least  Jesus  carried  away  from  Jerusa- 
lem, an  idea  which  from  this  time  forth  appears  rooted 
in  him,  that  there  is  no  compromise  possible  with  the 
ancient  Jewish  religion.  The  abolition  of  the  sacrifices 
which  had  caused  him  so  much  disgust,  the  suppression 
of  an  impious  and  haughty  priesthood,  and  in  a gene- 
ral sense  the  abrogation  of  the  Law  appeared  to  him 
an  absolute  necessity.  From  this  moment,  he  takes 
the  position  no  longer  of  the  Jewish  reformer,  but  of  a 
destroyer  of  Judaism.  Some  of  the  partisans  of  Messi- 
anic ideas  had  already  supposed  that  the  Messiah 
would  bring  a new  law,  which  would  be  common  to 
the  whole  earth.^  The  Essenes,  who  were  hardly 
J ew&  appear  also  to  have  been  indiflferent  to  the  tem- 
ple and  to  the  Mosaic  observances.  But  this  hardi* 

• ^"flchna;  Baha  Mdsta,  v,  8;  Talm.  of  Bab.,  /Sbto,  49  b 

f Talm.  of  Jerus.,  IX,  2. 

T Passage  Sota,  previously  cited,  and  Baba  Kama,  83  a. 

I Acts,  V,  34  seqi.  § Acts,  xxii,  3. 

^ Orac.  b.  Ill,  673  seqq.;  715  seqq. ; 756-5S.  Compare  the  Targnm  of  Jon* 
than,  Is.  XII,  3. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


207 


hood  was  only  isolated  or  not  avowed.  Jesus  first 
dared  to  say  that  from  liis  time,  or  .a-tker  from  that  of 
John,*  the  Law  existed  no  more.  If  he  sometimes 
used  terms  more  discreet, f it  was  that  he  might  not 
filiock  received  prejudices  too  violently.  When  ha 
was  pushed  to  an  issue,  he  put  aside  all  veils,  and  de 
dared  that  the  Law  was  no  longer  in  force.  He  made 
use  on  this  subject  of  strong  comparisons:  ^‘Men  do 
not  mend,”  he  said,  old  with  new.  They  do  not  put 
new  wine  into  old  bottles.”^:  See  now  in  practice  his 

acts  as  a master  and  a creator.  This  temple  excluded  non- 
Jews  from  its  pale  by  contemptuous  placards.  Jesus 
cares  not  for  it.  Jesus  declares  that  all  men  of  good 
will,  all  men  who  welcome  and  love  him,  are  children 
of  Abraham.  I Pride  of  blood  seems  to  him  the  chief 
enemy  to  be  fought.  Jesus,  in  other  words,  is  no 
longer  a Jew.  He  is  a revolutionist  of  the  highest 
grade;  he  calls  all  men  to  a religion  founded  solely 
upon  their  childhood  to  God.  He  proclaims  the  rights 
of  man,  not  the  rights  of  the  Jew  ; the  religion  of  man, 
not  the  religion  of  the  Jew;  the  deliverance  of  man, 
not  the  deliverance  of  the  Jew.§  Ah ! we  are  far  from 
a Juda,  the  Gaulonite,  a Mathias  Margaloth,  preach- 
ing revolution  in  the  name  of  the  Law  I The  religion 
of  humanity,  established  not  upon  race,  but  upon  the 
heart,  is  founded.  Moses  is  obsolete  the  temple  has  no 
longer  any  reason  to  be  and  is  irrevocably  doomed. 

♦ Luke,  XVI,  16.  The  passage  in  Matthew,  xi,  12-13,  is  less  clear,  but  can  hat 
DO  other  meaning. 

f Matt.,  V,  17-18  (Cf.  Talm.  of  Bab., 116  6),  This  passage  is  not  i 
contiadiction  with  those  in  which  the  abolition  of  the  Law  is  implied.  It  signl 
6es  only  that  in  Jesus  all  the  types  of  the  Old  Te.*>tament  are  accempliihed.  Cl 
Luke,  XVI,  17. 

J Matt. , IX,  16-17 ; Luke,  v,  86  seqq.  H Luke,  xix,  9. 

^ Matt.,  XXIV,  14;  xxviii  19;  Mark,  xiii,  10,  xvi,  15  Luke,  xxrv,  47. 


208 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRL«triANITV. 


CHAPTETv  XI 7. 

EBIiATlOBft  0»  JJS8US  WITF  TES  PAGANS  AND  TBl 
S A M A B I *P  A H S . 

In  accordance  witli  these  principles,  he  disdained 
everything  which  was  not  the  religion  of  the  heart. 
The  vain  practices  of  devotees,*  external  rigorism, 
which  relies  upon  grimaces  for  salvation,  found  in 
him  a mortal  enemy.  He  concerned  himself  little 
about  the  fasts. f He  preferred  the  forgiveness  of  an 
injury  to  a sacrifice.:]:  The  love  of  God,  charity,  mu- 

tual forgiveness,  this  is  all  his  la\v.||  N’othing  less 
priestly.  The  priest,  by  reason  of  his  profession,  urges 
always  to  public  sacrifice,  of  which  he  is  tlie  necessary 
minister;  he  diverts  from  private  prayer,  which  is  a 
means  of  dispensing  with  him.  We  should  search  the 
Gospel  in  vain  for  a religious  rite  commanded  by  Je- 
ns. Baptism  has  to  him  but  a secondary  import 
nee  ;§  and  as  to  prayer,  it  avails  nothing  unless  it 
omes  from  the  heart.  Many,  as  it  always  i.aj^pens 
’houglit  to  replace  by  the  willingness  of  weak  souia 
Jie  true  love  of  the  right,  and  imagine/^ 

♦ Matt. , XV,  9.  t Matt. , ix  14;  xi,  19 

iMatt.,  V,  23  seqq.;  ix,  13;  xii,  7. 

Matt.,  XXII,  '*7  seqq. ; Mark,  xii, 28  seqq. ; Luke;  x,  25  8eq<« 

S Matt  , 15  I Cor.,  i,  17. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


209 


could  conquer  the  kingdom  of  hea\^n  Ay  saying  to 
him, Rdbhi  he  repelled  them,  and  pro 
claimed  that  his  religion  was  to  do  well.*  He  often 
cited  this  passage  from  Isaiah  : This  people  honoreth 

Oie  with  their  lips,  but  their  heart  is  far  from  me.^’f 

The  Sabbatli  was  the  cardinal  point  upon  which  wa^ 

eared  the  edifice  of  pharisaical  scruples  and  subtilties* 
This  ancient  and  transcendant  institution  had  become 
a pretext  for  miserable  disputes  to  the  casuists,  and  a 
source  of  superstitious  beliefs4  It  was  believed  that 
nature  observed  it;  all  intermittent  springs  were  con- 
sidered sabbatical.”! 

It  was  this  point  also  upon  which  Jesus  was  most 
pleased  to  defy  his  adversaries. § He  openly  violated 
the  Sabbath,  and  responded  to  the  reproaches  which 
it  brought  upon  him  with  cutting  raillery.  With 
stronger  reason  he  contemned  a multitude  of  modern 
observances,  which  tradition  had  added  to  the  Law, 
and  which,  from  this  very  fact,  were  most  dear  to  the 
bigoted.  Ablutions,  fine-drawn  distinctions  between 
things  pure  and  impure,  he  could  not  abide ; “ Can 
you  also,  sidd  he  to  them,  wash  your  souls?  Not 
that  which  goeth  into  the  mouth  defileth  a man,  but 
that  which  cometh  out  of  his  heart.”^  The  Pharisees,, 
the  propagators  of  these  mummeries,  were  the  mark 
of  all  his  blows.  He  accused  them  of  overdoing  the 
Law,  of  inventing  impossible  precepts  in  order  to  cre- 
ate among  men  occasions  of  sin ; “Blind  leaders  of  the 

* Matt.,  VII,  27;  Luke,  vi,  46. 

+ Matt.,  XV,  8;  Mark,  vii,  6.  Cf.  Isaiah,  xxix,  13. 

t See  especially  the  treatise  Schabbath  of  the  Mischna,  and  the  Ewk  qf  the  Jvk- 
mee  (translated  from  the  Ethiojnan  in  the  Jahrhmher  of  Ewald,  2 and  3),  ch.  l. 

I Jos.,  B.  J.,  VII,  V,  1;  Pliny,  H.  N.,  XXXI, 18.  Cf.  Thomson,  The  Land  an| 
the  Book,  1, 406  seqq. 

J Matt. , XII,  1-14;  Mark,  ii, 23-28;  Luke,  vi,  1-5;  xiii,  14  seqq.;  xiv,  1 seqq. 

y Matt , xfi,  34:  XV,  1 seqq  ; 12  seqq. ; xxiii,  entire;  Man,  vn,  1 seqq. ; 16  seqq 
Lmke,  vi,  45;  xi,  39  seqq. 


210 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


blind,  said  he,  take  heed  lest  ye  fall  into  the 
‘‘  Generation  of  vipers,”  added  he  in  private,  they 
speak  none  hut  good  things,  but  within  they  are  bad ; 
they  belie  the  proverb  : ‘ Of  tlie  abundance  of  the 
Leart  the  mouth  speaketh.’  ” 

He  did  not  know  enough  of  the  Gentiles  to  think 
of  founding  upon  their  conversion  anything  substan- 
tial. Galilee  contained  a great  number  of  pagans,  but 
not.  it  would  seem,  any  public  and  organized  worship 
of  false  gods.*  Jesus  might  liave  seen  this  worship 
flaunting  in  all  its  splendor  in  the  country  of  Tyre  and 
Sidon,  at  Cesarea-Philippi,  and  in  Decapolis.f  He 
paid  little  attention  to  it.  We  never  see  in  him  that 
wearisome  pedantry  of  the  Jews  of  his  day,  these  de- 
clamations against  idolatry,  so  familiar  to  his  co-relig- 
ionists since  Alexander,  and  which  All,  for  example, 
the  book  of  ‘‘  Wisdom. What  strikes  him  in  the 
pagans,  is  not  their  idolatry,  but  their  servility.J  The 
young  Jewish  democrat,  in  this  a brother  of  Juda  the 
Gaalonite,  admitting  no  master  but  God,  was  deeply 
wounded  at  the  honors  with  which  the  persons  of  sov- 
ereigns were  surrounded,  and  the  titles,  often  menda- 
cious, which  were  given  them.  Aside  from  this,  in 
most  cases,  where  he  meets  pagans,  he  shows  great  in- 
dulgence toward  them  ; at  times  he  declares  that  he 
has  greater  hopes  of  them  than  of  the  Jews.§  The 
khigdom  of  God  will  be  transferred  to  them.  When 

♦ I believe  that  the  pagans  of  Galilee  were  found  mostly  on  the  frontiers,  a 
Kad3s,  for  example,  but  that  the  very  heart  of  the  country,  the  city  of  Tiberiaa 
tSxcepted,  was  wholly  Jewish.  The  line  where  the  ruins  of  temples  end  and  the 
ruins  of  synagogues  begin,  is  now  clearly  marked  as  high  as  lake  Huleh  (Sama- 
chonitis).  The  traces  of  pagan  sculpture  which  it  is  believed  have  been  found 
at  Tell-Hum,  are  doubtful.  The  coast,  and  especially  the  town  of  Acre  do  not 
form  part  of  Galilee. 

t See  above,  p.  153.  J Chap,  xiii  seqq. 

I Matt.,  XX,  25;  Mark,  x,  42;  Luke,  xxn,  25. 

§ Matt.,  VIII,  5 seqq. ; xv,  22  seqq. ; Mark,  vii,  26  seqq. ; Luke,  iv,  25  aieqq. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


211 


the  lord  of  a vineyard  is  jissatisfied  with  those  to 
whom  he  has  let  it,  what  does  he  do  ? He  lets  it  to 
others,  who  bring  him  good  fruits.”*  Jesus  would 
cleave  so  much  the  more  strongly  to  this  idea,  as  the 
(conversion  of  the  Gentiles  was,  according  to  Jewish 
ideas,  one  of  the  most  certain  signs  of  the  coming  of 
the  Messiah.f  In  his  kingdom  of  God,  men  sit  at  the 
feast,  by  the  side  of  Abraliam,  Isaac  and  Jacob,  who 
have  come  from  the  four  winds  of  heaven,  while  the 
legitimate  heirs  of  the  kingdom  are  excluded.  J Often, 
it  is  true,  we  apparently  find  in  the  commands  which 
he  gives  his  disciples  a directly  contrary  tendency  ; he 
seems  to  charge  them  to  preach  salvation  only  to  the 
orthodox  Jews  ;|  he  speaks  of  pagans  in  a manner 
conformable  to  , the  prejudices  of  the  Jews.§  But  we 
must  remember  that  the  disciples,  whose  narrow  un- 
derstanding did  not  comprehend  this  lofty  indiflference 
to  the  condition  of  the  sons  of  Abraham,  may  well 
have  caused  the  instructions  of  their  master  to  bend 
considerably  in  the  direction  of  their  own  ideas.  Be- 
sides, it  is  very  possible  that  Jesus  varied  upon  this 
point,  even  as  Mahomet  speaks  of  the  Jews,  in  the 
Koran,  sometimes  in  the  most  honorable  way,  some- 
times with  extreme  harshness,  accordingly  as  he  hopes 
to  attract  them  or  not  to  him.  Tradition  indeed  attri- 
butes to  Jesus  two  rules  of  proselytism  in  direct  con- 
tradiction, which  he  may  have  practised  by  turns  ; 

He  that  is  not  against  us  is  for  us He  that  is 

• Matt.,  XXI,  41;  Mark,  xii,  9;  Luke,  xx,  16. 

t Is.,  II,  2seqq.;  lx;  Amos  ix,  11  seqq.;  Jerem.,  iii,  17,  Malach.  i,  11,  IbW, 
nil,  13  seqq. ; Omc.  Sibyl. ^ iii,  715  seqq.  Comp.  Matt.,  xxiv,  14;  AcU  XT  16  Beqq. 

iMatt.,  viii,  11-12;  xxi,  33  seqq. ; xxii,  1 seqq. 

Matt,  VII,  6;  x,  5-6;  xv,  24;  xxi,  43. 

Matt. , V,  46  seqq. ; vi,  7,  32;  xvi.i,  17 ; Luke,  vi,  32  seqq  x | 30. 


212 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


not  with  me  is  against  me.”*  An  impassioned  strug 
gle  almost  necessarily  leads  to  such  con  radictions. 

It  is  certain  that  he  numbered  among  his  disciplea 
many  whom  the  Jews  called  “ Hellenes. ”f  This  word 
had,  in  Palestine,  very  difterent  meanings.  It  desig- 
nated sometimes  pagans,  sometimes  Jews  speaking 
Greek  and  living  among  pagans,  sometimes  people  of 
pagan  origin  converted  to  Judaism.  | Probably  it  is 
in  this  last  category  of  Hellenes  that  Jesus  found 
sympathy.!  Affiliation  to  Judaism  had  many  degrees  ; 
but  proselytes  were  always  inferior  to  Jews  by  birth. 
Those  of  whom  we  now  speak  were  called  ‘‘  proselytes 
of  the  gate,”  or  ‘‘  people  fearing  God,”  and  were  in 
subjection  to  the  precepts  of  Noah,  not  to  the  Mosaic 
precepts.!*  This  very  inferiority  was  doubtless  the 
cause  which  brought  them  nearer  to  Jesus  and  secured 
them  his  favor. 

He  dealt  in  the  same  way  with  the  Samaritans. 
Hemmed  in  like  an  islet,  between  the  two  great  pro- 
vinces of  Judaism  (Judea  and  Galilee),  Samaria  formed 
in  Palestine  a kind  of  independent  territory,  which 
preserved  the  old  worship  of  Garizim,  the  brother  and 
rival  of  that  of  Jerusalem.  This  poor  sect,  which  had 
neither  the  genius  nor  the  wise  organization  of  Juda- 
ism proper,  was  treated  by  the  Hierosolymites  with 
extreme  severity.**  They  were  placed  upon  the  same 
level  with  the  pagans,  with  one  degree  more  of  hatred.f^ 

♦ Matt,  XII,  40.;  Mark,  ix,  30;  Luke,  ix,  50;  xi,  23. 

f Josephus  says  so  expressly  (Ant.j  XVIII,  iii.  3).  Comp.  John,  vii.  8fl;  xii 
gO-21.  t Talm.  of  Jerus.,  ti/  1. 

I See  in  particular,  John,  vii,  3^;  xii,  20;  Acts,  xiv,  1;  xvii,  4;  xviii  ,4;  xxi,  28 

^ John,  XII,  20;  Acts,  vii,  27. 

^ Mischna,  Baia  metsia,  ix,  12;  Talm.  of  Bab.,  Sarih.  56  5;  Ads,  viii,  27;  x,  2.  22, 
$5;  XIII,  16,  26, 43, 50*  xvi,  14;  xvii,  4, 17;  xviii,  7;  Galat,  ii,8;  Jos.,  AtU.,  XIV, 
Vll,  2. 

♦♦  Ecclesiastes,  L,  27-28;  John,  vm,  48;  Jos.,  Ant.,  IX,  xiv,  8;  XI,  viii,  6 XIL 
r,  8;  Talm.  of  Jterus.,  Aboda  zara,  v,  4;  Fesachim,  i,  1. 

Matt.,  X,  6;  Luke,  xyii,  18.  Comf . Talm.  oi  Bab.,  Chdlin,  6 a. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


213 


Jesus,  by  a sort  of  opposition,  was  kind.y  disposed  to- 
wards them.  Often  he  prefers  Samaritans  to  orthodox 
Jews.  If,  in  other  cases,  he  seems  to  forbid  his  disci- 
ples to  go  and  preach  to  them,  reserving  his  Gospe? 
for  the  pure  Israelites,*  this  also  is  undoubtedly  a pre- 
cept dictated  by  circumstances,  to  which  the  apostles 
may  have  given  too  absolute  a meaning.  Sometimes, 
indeed,  the  Samaritans  gave  him  an  ill-reception,  be 
cause  they  supposed  him  imbued  with  the  prejudices 
of  his  co-religionists  ;f  just  as  in  our  days  the  European 
free-thinker  is  viewed  as  an  enemy  by  the  Mussulman, 
who  always  believes  him  a fanatical  Christian.  Jesus 
rose  above  these  misconceptions.;]:  He  had  many  dis- 

ciples at  Sichem,  and  he  spent  there  at  least  two  day s.J 
In  one  instance,  he  finds  gratitude  and  true  piety  only 
in  a Sarnaritan.§  One  of  his  most  beautiful  parables 
is  that  of  the  man  wounded  upon  the  road  to  Jericho. 
A priest  passes  him,  sees  him  and  continues  his  way. 
A Levite  passes  and  does  not  stop.  A Samaritan  has 
pity  on  him,  goes  to  him,  pours  oil  into  his  wounds, 
and  binds  them  up.Tf  Jesus  concludes  from  this  that 
true  fraternity  is  established  among  men  by  charity, 
not  by  religious  faith.  The  neighbor,’^  who  in  Juda- 
ism was  only  the  co-religionist,  is  to  him  that  man  who 
has  pity  on  his  kind  without  distinction  of  sect.  Hu- 
man brotherhood  in  the  broadest  sense  overflows  from 
all  his  teachings. 

o 

These  thoughts,  which  beset  Jesus  on  his  departur 
from  Jerusalem,  found  living  expression  in  an  anecdote 
which  has  been  preserved  on  his  return.  The  road 
from  Jerusalem  to  Galilee  passes  within  half  an  hour^a 
journey  of  Sichem,**  before  the  opening  of  the  valley 


^ ijuke,  xvn  16seqq.  ^ Luke^  f,  30  seqq. 


I John,  IV,  39-43. 
♦♦  Now  Naplon» 


214 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


overlooked  by  Mounts  Ebal  and  Grarizim.  This  ronta 
M'as  in  general  avoided  by  the  pilgrim  Jews,  who  made 
the  long  circuit  of  Persea  in  their  journeys  rather  than 
to  expose  themselves  to  the  affronts  of  the  Samaritans 
or  to  ask  anything  of  them.  It  was  unlawful  to  eat  or 
drink  with  them  ;*  it  was  an  axiom  of  certain  casuists 
that  a bit  of  the  Samaritans’  bread  is  swine’s  flesh.”f 
When  they  took  that  route,  they  supplied  themselves 
with  provisions  in  advance ; yet  they  rarely  avoided 
quarrels  and  ill-treatment.;}:  Jesus  partook  neither  of 

these  scruples  nor  these  fears.  Peaching  on  his  jour- 
ney the  point  where  the  valley  of  Sichem  opens  upon 
the  left,  he  felt  weary,  and  stopped  near  a well.  The 
Samaritans  had,  then  as  now,  the  custom  of  giving  to 
all  the  places  in  their  valley,  names  drawn  from  pa- 
triarchal remembrances ; they  regarded  this  well  as 
having  been  given  by  Jacob  to  Joseph ; it  was  proba- 
bly the  very  same  which  is  even  yet  called 
The  disciples  entered  the  valley  and  went  to  the  town 
to  buy  provisions  ; Jesus  seated  himself  upon  the  brink 
of  the  well,  looking  towards  Garizim. 

It  was  about  noon.  A woman  of  Sichem  came  to 
draw  water.  Jesus  asked  to  drink,  which  excited  great 
astonishment  in  the  woman,  the  Jews  ordinarily  inter- 
dicting themselves  from  all  dealing  with  the  Samari- 
tans. Won  over  by  the  conversation  of  Jesus,  the 
womati  recognized  in  him  a prophet,  and,  expecting 
reproaches  upon  her  worship,  she  took  the  lead : 
“ Lord,”  said  she,  “ our  fathers  worshipped  in  this 
mountain ; and  ye  say  that  Jerusalem  is  the  place 
where  men  ought  to  worship.”  “ Woman,  believe  me,” 
Jesus  responded  to  her, the  hour  cometh  when  ye 

♦ Luke,  IX,  53;  John,  iv,  9.  f Mischna,  Schebiit,  viii,  10. 

X Job.,  Ant.  XX,  v,  1;  J . It,  xii,  3;  Fito,  52. 


LIFE  OF  JESnS, 


216 


Bhall  worship  neither  in  this  mountain  nor  yet  at  Jeru 
Salem,  but  when  the  true  worshippers  shall  worship 
the  Father  in  spirit  and  in  truth.”* 

On  the  clay  when  he  pronounced  these  words,  he 
was  indeed  the  son  of  God.  He  for  the  first  time  ga\'e 
ntterance  to  the  idea  upon  which  shall  rest  the  edifice 
of  the  everlasting  religion.  He  founded  the  pure  wor 
3hip,  of  no  age,  of  no  clime,  which  shall  be  that  of  all 
lofty  souls  to  the  end  of  time.  Not  only  was  his  relig- 
ion, that  day,  the  benign  religion  of  humanity,  but  it 
was  the  absolute  religion ; and  if  other  planets  have 
inhabitants  endowed  with  reason  and  morality,  their 
religion  cannot  be  diflferent  from  that  which  Jesus 
proclaimed  at  Jacob’s  well.  Man  has  not  been  able 
to  abide  by  this  worship  ; we  attain  the  ideal  only  for 
a moment.  Tlie  words  of  Jesus  were  a gleam  in  thick 
night;  it  has  taken  eighteen  hundred  years  for  the 
eyes  of  humanity  (what  do  I say  I of  an  infinitely  small 
portion  of  humanity)  to  learn  to  abide  it.  But  the 
gleam  shall  become  the  full  day,  and,  after  passing 
through  all  the  circles  of  error,  humanity  will  return 
to  these  words,  as  to  the  immortal  expression  of  its 
faith  and  its  hopes. 

• John,  IV,  21-23.  Verse  22,  at  least  the  last  clause,  which  expresses  a thought 
op^)osed  to  that  of  verses  21-23,  appears  to  have  been  interpolated.  We  cannot 
insist  very  strongly  upon  the  historic  value  of  such  a conversation,  since  Jesuf 
alone,  or  the  woman  could  have  related  it.  But  the  anecdote  of  chapter  r?  o^ 
Jolm  certainly  represents  one  of  the  most  characteristi<i  ideas  of  Jesus,  and  tba 
greater  part  of  the  circumstances  of  the  recital  have  a s^itking  stamp  of  truth. 


216 


ORIGINS  OP  CHRISTIANITY. 


CHAPTEE  XV. 

I OMIIBHGEMENT  OF  THE  LEGEND  OF  JBSUS-HIS  0 W f 
IDEA  OF  HIS  SUPEBNATUBAL  HISSION. 

Jesus  returned  to  Galilee  having  completely  lost 
his  Jewish  faith,  and  in  full  revolutionary  ardor.  His 
ideas  are  now  expressed  with  perfect  clearness.  The 
innocent  aphorisms  of  his  first  prophetic  age,  borrowed 
in  part  from  preceding  masters,  the  beautiful  moral 
teachings  of  his  second  period,  result  in  a decided 
policy.  The  law  is  to  be  abolished ; he  himself  is  to 
abolish  it.*  The  Messiah  has  come  ; he  himself  is  the 
Messiah.  The  kingdom  of  God  is  soon  to  reveal  it- 
self ; by  him  it  is  to  be  revealed,  lie  knows  well  that 
he  will  be  the  victim  of  his  hardihood  ; but  the  king- 
dom of  God  cannot  be  conquered  without  violence  ; it 
is  by  crises  and  anguish  that  it  must  be  established.f 
The  Son  of  man,  after  his  death,  will  come  in  glory, 
accompanied  by  legions  of  angels,  and  those  who  have 
denied  him  shall  be  confounded. 

The  boldness  of  such  a conception  must  not  surprise 
us.  Jesus  had  long  considered  the  relation  between 

• The  hesitation  of  the  immediate  disciples  of  Jesus,  a considerable  portion  o 
whom  remained  attached  to  Judaism,  might  here  give  rise  to  some  objections. 
But  the  trial  of  Jesus  leaves  no  room  for  any  doubt.  We  shall  see  that  he  was 
there  treated  as  a “ seducer  ’’  The  Talmud  gives  the  method  followed  against 
him  as  an  example  of  that  which  ought  to  be  followed  against  “ seducers,”  who 
seek  to  overturn  the  Law  of  Moses  (Talm.  of  Jerus. , Sanhedrir.,  xiv,  16;  Talm 
of  Bab. , Sanhedrin,  43  a,  67  a). 

•fr  Matt.,  XI,  12;  Luke,  xvi,  16 


LIFE  or  JESUS. 


217 


Iiimself  and  God,  that  oetween  a son  and  a father. 
What  in  others  would  have  been  insupportable  arro 
gance,  in  him  cannot  be  treated  as  unlawful. 

The  title  of  son  of  David,”  was  the  first  that  he  ao 
ceptedj  probably  without  being  concerned  in  the  inno- 
cent frauds  by  which  it  was  sought  to  secure  it  to  him 
The  family  of  David  had  become,  it  would  seem,  long 
since  extinct  ;*  the  Asmoneans  had  never  sought  to 
attribute  to  themselves  such  a descent;  neither  Herod 
nor  the  Romans  dreamed  for  a moment  that  there  was 
among  them  any  representative  whatever  of  the  rights 
of  the  ancient  dynasty.  But  since  the  end  of  the  As- 
moneans, the  dream  of  an  unknown  descendant  of  the 
old  kings,  who  should  avenge  the  nation  of  its 
enemies,  agitated  all  minds.  The  universal  belief 
was  that  the  Messiah  would  be  a son  of  David,  born, 
like  him,  at  Bethlehem. f The  first  idea  of  Jesus 

was  not  precisely  that.  The  memory  of  David,  which 
preoccupied  the  mass  of  the  Jews,  had  nothing  in  com- 
mon with  hie  kingdom  of  heaven.  He  believed  himself 
the  son  of  God,  and  not  the  son  of  David.  His  king- 
dom, and  the  deliverance  which  he  meditated  were  of 
an  entirely  different  order.  But  popular  opinion  on  this 
point,  did  him  a species  of  violence.  The  immediate  con- 
sequence of  this  proposition  : ‘‘  Jesus  is  the  Messiah,” 
was  this  other  proposition:  Jesus  is  the  son  of  David  !” 
He  submitted  to  receive  a title  without  which  he  could 
hope  for  no  success.  lie  finally,  it  seems,  look  pleas- 
ure in  it,  for  he  performed  most  graciously  those  mir- 

• It  is  true  that  certain  doctors,  such  as  Hillel  and  Gamaliel,  are  given  as  be- 
ing of  the  race  of  David.  But  these  are  very  doubtful  allegations.  If  the  fami- 
ly of  David  still  formed  a distinct  and  well-known  group,  how  happens 
that  we  never  see  it  figuring  by  the  side  of  the  Sadokites,  the  Boethuses,  the  At- 
laoneans,  or  the  Herods  in  the  great  struggles  of  the  times? 

t Matt,  II,  6-6;  xxn,  Luke,  i,  32;  John,  vii,  41-42;  Acts,  ii,  30. 
li) 


218 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


acles  which  were  sought  of  him  in  this  name.*  Ilere^ 
as  in  many  other  circumstances  of  his  life,  Jesus  con- 
formed to  the  ideas  which  were  current  in  his  time, 
although  they  were  not  precisely  his  own.  He  associ- 
ated with  his  dogma  of  the  “ kingdom  of  God,”  all  that 
warmed  the  heart  and  the  imagination.  Thus  have  we 
fieen  him  adopt  the  baptism  of  John,  which,  however, 
could  have  been  of  no  great  importance  to  him. 

A grave  difficulty  presented  itself;  his  birth  at  Naz- 
areth, which  was  a matter  of  public  notoriety.  We  do 
not  know  whether  Jesus  attempted  to  answer  this 
objection.  Perhaps  it  was  not  made  in  Galilee, 
where  the  idea  that  the  son  of  David  must  be  a Beth- 
lehemite,  was  less  common.  To  the  idealistic  Galilean, 
moreover,  the  t’tle  of  ‘‘  son  of  David,”  was  sufficiently 
justified,  if  he  to  whom  it  was  given,  renewed  the 
glory  of  his  race,  and  brought  back  again  the  great 
days  of  Israel.  Did  he,  by  his  silence,  authorize  the 
fictitious  genealogies  which  his  partisans  imagined,  in 
order  to  prove  his  royal  descent.f  Did  he  know  any- 
thing of  the  legends  invented  to  fix  Ms  birth  at  Beth- 
lehem, and  in  particular  of  the  feat  by  which  his  Beth- 
lehemite  origin  was  connected  with  the  assessment 
made  by  the  imperial  legate,  Quirinius  ?:}:  We  do  not 
know.  The  inexactitude  and  the  contradictions  of 
the  genealogies,!  induce  the  belief  that  they  were  the 
esult  of  a popular  labor,  working  at  dififerent  points, 

f 

• Matt.,  IX,  27;  xii,  23;  xv,  22:  xx,  30-31;  Mark,  x,  47,  52;  Luke,  xviii,  38. 

+ Matt.,  I,  I seqq.;  Luke,  iii,  *23  seqq.  J Matt.,  ii,  1 seqq.;  Luke,  ii,l  seqq. 

J The  two  genealogies  are  altogether  discordant,  and  conform  little  to  the  lists 
cf  the  Old  Testament.  The  recital  of  Luke  as  to  the  assessment  of  Quirinius 
implies  an  anachronism.  See  above,  p.  65,  note  |.  It  is  natural,  however,  that 
the  tradition  should  have  seized  upon  this  circumstance.  The  assessments  im- 
pressed the  Jews  very  strongly  overturned  their  narrow  ideas,  and  were  long 
remembered.  Cf.  wids,  t,  37. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


21S 


and  that  none  of  them  were  sanctioned  by  Jesus.*  Ne 
ver  did  he  designate  himself  with  his  own  lips  as  the 
son  of  David.  His  disciples,  much  less  enlightened 
than  he,  heightened  at  times  what  he  said  of  himself; 
)ftenest  he  had  no  knowledge  of  these  exaggerations 
We  must  add  that  during  the  three  first  centuries 
jarge  portions  of  Cbristianitjf  obstinately  denied  tlie 
royal  descent  of  Jesus,  and  the  authenticity  of  the  gen 
ealogies. 

His  legend  was  thus  the  fruit  of  a great,  altogether 
spontaneous  conspiracy,  and  was  worked  out  about 
him  while  he  was  yet  alive.  No  great  event  of  history 
has  passed  without  giving  rise  to  a cycle  of  fables,  and 
Jesus  could  not,  had  he  wished,  have  silenced  these 
popular  creations.  Perhaps  a sagacious  eye  could 
have  recognized,  even  tlien,  the  germ  of  the  stories 
which  were  to  attribute  to  him  a supernatural  birth, 
eitlier  in  consequence  of  the  notion  generally  received 
in  antiquity,^  that  the  extraordinary  man  cannot  be 
born  of  the  ordinary  relations  between  the  sexes;  or 
to  fulfil  a misunderstood  chapter  of  Isaiah,:]:  in  which 
a prophecy  was  seen,  that  the  Messiah  should  be  born 
of  a virgin  ; or  finally  to  carry  out  the  idea  that  the 
Breath  of  God,”  already  set  up  in  the  divine  hy- 
postasis, is  a principle  of  fecundity. | Even  then, 

perhaps,  there  circulated  concerning  his  childhood, 
more  than  one  anecdote  intended  to  show  in  his  biog 
•aphy  the  accomplishment  of  the  Messianic  ideal,§  or 

* Julius  Africanus  (in  Eusebius,  H.  E..  i,  7)  supposes  that  it  was  the  relativui 
tr  Jesus,  refugees  in  Batanea,  who  essayed  to  recompose  the  genealogies. 

] The  Ebionim,  the  “ Hebrews,’’  the  “ Nazarenes,”  Tatian,  Marciou.  Cf 
Epiph.,  Adv.  Acer.,  XXIX,  9;  xxx,  3,  14;  xlvi,  1;  Theodoret,  Uosrdt.fab  ^i^  20; 
Jdorus  of  Pelusium,  Epist.,  i,  371;  ad  Pansophium.  J Matt.j^i,  22-23. 

11  Genesis,  i,  2.  For  an  analogous  idea  among  the  Egyptians,  see  Herodotus 
III,  28;  Pomp.  Mela,  I,  9;  Plutarch,  Quasst.  tymp.y  VIII,  l,  3;  De  , et  0««r.,48 
^ Matt.,  X,  15,  23;  Is.,  vii,  14  seoa. 


220 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


to  speak  more  correctly,  of  tlie  propliecies  which  the 
allegorical  exegesis  of  the  time  applied  to  the  Messiah. 
At  other  times,  there  were  created  for  him  relations 
from  the  cradle  with  celebrated  men,  John  the  Baptist, 
Jlerod  the  Great,  Olialdean  astrologers,  who,  it  was 
said,  about  that  time  made  a journey  to  Jerusalem,* * * § 
two  aged  persons,  Simeon  and  Anna,  who  had  left 
memories  of  lofty  sanctity .f  A rather  loose  chronology 
presided  over  these  combinations,  which  were  for  the 
most  part  founded  upon  real  occurrences  distorted. ;| 
But  a singular  spirit  of  sweetness  and  of  gO'Odness,  a 
profoundly  popular  sentiment,  penetrated  all  these  fa^ 
o.es,  and  made  them  a supplement  to  the  teachings.! 
After  the  death  of  Jesus  especially,  such  stories  were 
largely  developed  ; we  may  believe,  however,  that 
they  were  already  in  circulation  while  he  was  living, 
without  encountering  anything  more  than  a pious  cre- 
dulity and  an  artless  wonder. 

That  Jesus  had  never  thought  of  passing  for  an  in- 
carnation of  God,  we  cannot  doubt.  Such  an  idea 
was  extremely  foreign  to  the  Jewish  mind  ; there  is  no 
trace  of  it  in  the  synoptic  gospels  ;§  we  find  it  indi- 
cated only  in  portions  of  the  gospel  of  John  which 
cannot  be  accepted  as  an  echo  of  die  thought  of  Jesus. 
Sometimes  even  Jesus  seems  to  take  precautions  to  re- 
pel such  a doctrine.^  The  accusation  that  he  made 
himself  God  or  tlm  equal  of  God  is  presented,  even  in 
he  Gospel  of  John,  as  a calumny  of  the  Jews.**  In 

• Matt  , II,  1 seqq.  t ^uke,  ii,  25  seqq. 

X Thus  the  legeud  of  tue  Massacre  of  the  Innocents  probably  relates  to  some 
fruelty  of  Herod  with  regard  to  Bethlehem.  Comp.  Jos.,  Ant.,  XIV , ix,  4. 

II  Matt.,  I and  ii;  Luke,  i and  ii;  St.  Justin, Died,  cum  Tryph.,  78,  106;  Prokvan$ 
ef  James  (apocr.) , 18  seqq. 

§ Certain  passages,  like  Ads,  ii,  *z2,  exclude  it  expressly, 
f Matt., XIX,  17;  Mark,  x,  IS;  Luke,  xviii,  19, 

**  John,  V,  18  seqq. ; x,  6‘6  se<iq. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


221 


this  last  gospel,  lie  declares  that  he  is  less  than  his 
Father.*  Besides,  he  avows  that  the  Father  has  not 
revealed  all  things  to  him.f  He  believes  himself 
more  than  an  ordinary  man,  but  separated  from  Go 
by  an  infinite  distance.  He  is  the  sou  of  God ; but  al 
men  are  so  or  may  become  so  in  diverse  degrees.^  All 
men,  every  day,  ought  to  call  God  their  father ; all  the 
resurrected  will  be  sons  of  God.f  The  divine  filiation 
was  attributed  in  the  Old  Testament  to  beings  for 
whom  was  made  no  pretention  of  equality  with  God.§ 
The  word  ‘‘  son"^’  has,  in  the  Semitic  tongues,  and  in 
the  language  of  the  New  Testament,  the  largest  range 
of  meaning.*[  Besides,  the  idea  which  Jesus  forms  of 
man  is  not  this  humble  idea  which  a cold  deism  has 
introduced.  In  his  poetic  conception  of  nature,  one 
breath  only  penetrates  the  universe  ; the  breath  of 
man  is  that  of  God  ; God  dwells  in  man  and  lives  by 
man,  even  as  man  dwells  in  God  and  lives  by  God.** 
The  transcendant  idealism  of  Jesus  never  permitted 
him  to  have  a very  clear  idea  of  his  own  personality. 
He  is  his  Father;  his  Father  is  he,  He  lives  in  his  dis- 
ciples ; he  is  everywhere  with  them  ;ff  his  disciples  are 
one,  as  he  and  his  Father  are  one4t 

* John,  xiy,  28,  t Mark,  xiii,  35. 

J Matt.,  V,  9,  45;  Luke,  iii,  38;  vi,  35;  xx,  36;  John,  i,  T2-13;  x,  34-35,  Comp. 
Acts,  XVII,  28-29;  Rom.,  viii,  14, 19,  21;  ix,  16;  II  Cor.,  vi,  18;  Galat.,  iii,  26,  and 
In  the  Old  Testament,  Devi.,  xiv,  l,  and  especially  Wisdom  n,  13, 18. 

^ Luke,  XX,  36. 

1 Gen.,  VI,  2;  Job,  i,  6;  ii,  1;  xxviii,  7;  Ps.,  ii,  7;  lxxxii,  6;  II  Sam.,  vii,14 
The  eon  of  the  devil  (Matt.,  xiii,  P8;  xiii,  10)- the  sons  of  this  world 
(Mark,  iii,  17;  Luke,  xvi,  8;  xx,  34) ; the  sons  of  light  (Luke,  xvi,  8;  John,  xii, 
56) ; the  sons  of  the  resurrection  (Luke,  xx,  86;  the  sons  of  the  kingdom  (Matt, 
Till,  12.  XIII,  38);  the  sons  of  the  bridegroom  (Matt.,  ix,  35,  JV’ark,  ii,  li 
Luke,  V,  34);  the  sons  of  Gehenna  (Matt.,  xxiii,  15);  the  sons  of  peace  (Luke,  x 
8),  etc. Bear  in  mind  that  the  Jupiter  of  paganism  is  rs  Ogwv  T6. 

Comp.  Acts,  XVII,  28.  ft  Matt.,  xviii,  20.  xxviii,  20. 

John,  TT,  80;  xvii,  21.  See  in  general  the  last  discourses  of  John,  especially  ch, 
XVII,  which  very  well  express  one  phase  of  the  psychological  state  of  Jesus, 
though  we  cannot  regard  these  as  genuine  historical  documents 


222 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


is  everything  ; the  body,  which  makes  the  distinction 
of  persons,  is  nothing. 

The  title  of  “ Son  of  God  ” or  simply  of  Son,”*  thus 
became  to  Jesus  a title  analogous  to  “ Son  of  man,” 
and,  like  it,  a synonym  of  Messiah,”  with  this  diiffer 
ence  only,  that  he  called  himself  ‘‘  Son  of  man,”  and 
that  he  does  not  seem  to  have  made  the  same  use  of 
the  expression  “ Sou  of  God.”f  The  title  Son  of  man 
expressed  his  character  as  judge  ; that  of  Son  of  (lod 
his  participation  in  the  supreme  designs  and  his  pow- 
er. Tliis  power  has  no  limits.  His  Father  has  given 
him  all  power.  He  has  a right  to  change  even  the 
Sabbath. :|:  None  knows  the  Father  except  through 

him.j  The  Father  has  transmitted  to  him  the  exclu- 
sive right  to  judge. § Nature  obeys  him;  but  she 
also  obeys  whoever  believes  and  prays  ; faith  can  ac- 
complish all  things.T^  We  must  remember  that  no 
idea  of  the  laws  of  Nature  existed  in  his  mind,  or  in 
the  minds  of  his  auditors,  to  mark  the  limits  of  the 
possible.  The  witnesses  of  his  miracles  thanked  God 
for  having  given  such  power  to  men.”**^  He  forgives 
sins  ;tf  he  is  superior  to  David,  to  Abraham,  to  Solo- 
mon, and  to  the  prophets.:{::j:  We  know  neither  under 

what  form  nor  to  what  extent  these  affirmations  were 
produced.  Jesus  cannot  be  judged  by  the  rule  of  our 
petty  propriety.  The  admiration  of  his  disciples  over- 
whelmed him  and  carried  him  away.  It  is  eviden^ 
that  the  title  of  Habh%  with  which  he  was  at  first  con 
tent,  did  not  longer  suffice ; the  title  of  prophet  even 

♦ The  passages  in  support  of  this  are  too  numerous  to  be  given  here, 
f It  is  only  in  the  Gospel  of  J ohn  that  J esus  makes  use  of  the  expression  * Bof 
Of  God’'  or  “ Son”  in  speaking  of  himself.  J Matt.,  xii,  8;  Luke,  vi,  5. 

I Matt  , XI,  27.  § John,  v,  22.  ^ Matt.,  xvii,  18-19;  Luke,  xvii,  6. 

•*  Matt.,  IX,  8.  ft  Matt,,  IX,  2 seqq.;  Mark,  ii,  5 seqq.;  Luke,  v,  20;  vii,  47-4# 

Matt. , XII,  41-42;  XXII,  43  seqq. ; J ohn,  viii,  52  seqq. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


223 


or  of  messenger  of  God  did  not  now  respond  to  hia 
idea.  The  position  which  he  attributed  to  himself 
was  that  of  a superhuman  being,  and  he  wished  to  be 
regarded  as  having  a more  elevated  communion  with 
God  than  other  men.  But  we  must  remark  that  these 
words  superlmman  ” and  supernatural’’  borrowed 
from  our  narrow  tlieology,  had  no  meaning  in  the  high 
religious  consciousness  of  Jesus.  To  him,  nature  and 
the  development  of  humanity  were  not  limited  king 
doms  outside  of  God,  pitiful  realities,  subjected  to  the 
laws  of  a hopeless  empiricism.  Nothing  was  super 
natural  to  him,  for  there  was  no  nature.  Intoxicated 
with  infinite  love,  he  forgot  the  heavy  chain  which 
holds  the  spirit  captive ; he  overleaped  at  one  bound 
the  abyss,  insurmountable  to  the  multitude,  which  the 
mediocrity  of  the  human  faculties  traces  between  m^ 
and  God. 

We  do  not  deny  that  there  was  in  these  aflSrmations  of 
Jesus  the  germ  of  the  doctrine  which  was  afterwards 
to  make  him  a divine  hypostasis,*  identifying  him 
with  the  Word,  or second  God,”f  or  eldest  son  of 
God,:|;  or  Metathronic  Angel^\  which  the  Jewish  the- 
ology created  on  another  hand.  A species  of  neces- 
sity led  this  theology,  in  order  to  correct  the  extreme 

♦ See  especially  John,  xiv  seqq.  But  it  is  doubtful  whether  we  have  here  thf 
authentic  teaching  of  Jesus. 

f Philo  cited  in  Eusebius,  Prcdp.  Evang.,yily  13. 

t Philo  De  migr.  Abraham,  § 1 ; Quod  dms  immut, , § 6;  Deconfus.  ling  , §§  14  and  28 
J)e profugis,  § 20;  DeSomniiSy  I,  § 37;  De  agric,  NoCy  § 12;  Quis  rerum  divin.  hcBres,  § 2 
leqq. ; 48  seqq. , etc 

i Mst6l6 ^ovcSy  that  is  to  say,  sharing  the  throne  of  God;  a species  ol 
divine  recorder,  keeping  the  register  of  merits  and  of  demerits;  Bereschilh  Rahbay 
V,  6 c;  Talm.  of  Bab. , Sanhedr. , 38  6;  Chagiga,  15  a;  Targum  of  Jonathan,  Gen. , v,  24. 

^ This  theory  of  the  Aoyo^  contains  no  Greek  elements.  The  comparisoni 
Which  some  have  made  between  it  and  the  Honover  of  the  Parsees  are  also  with- 
out foundation  The  MinoJchired  or  “ Divine  Intelligence”  has  much  analogy  with 
the  Aoyojof  the  Jews.  (See  the  fragments  of  the  book  entitled  Mimkhirei 
in  Spiegel,  Parsi-Grammatik,  p.  161-162.)  But  the  development  which  the  doc- 
trine ot  the  Sfinokhired  has  received  among  the  Parsees  is  modern , and  may  Vaa 


224 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


rigor  of  the  ancient  monotheism,  to  place  near  God  an 
assistant  judge,  to  whom  the  Eternal  Father  was  ro 
puted  to  delegate  the  government  of  the  universa 
The  belief  that  certain  men  are  incarnations  of  divine 
faculties  or ‘^powers,”  was  wide-spread;  the  Samarit 
ans  had  about  this  time  a wonder-worker  named  Si 
mon,  who  was  identified  with  ‘Hhe  great  power  of 
God.”*  For  nearly  two  centuries,  the  speculative 
minds  of  Judaism  had  yielded  to  the  propensity  tc 
make  distinct  personalities  of  the  divine  attributes  or 
of  certain  expressions  which  related  to  the  divinity 
Thus  the  “ Breath  of  God,”  which  is  often  mentioned 
in  the  Old  Testament,  is  considered  as  a separate  be- 
ing, the  ‘^Holy  Spirit.”  In  the  same  way,  the  Wis- 
dom of  God,”  the  Word  of  God,”  become  persons 
existing  by  themselves.  This  was  the  germ  of  the 
process  which  has  engendered  the  Sephiroth  of  the 
Cabbala,  the  JEons  of  Gnosticism,  the  Christian  hy- 
postases, all  this  dry  mythology,  consisting  of  personi- 
fied abstractions,  to  which  monotheism  is  obliged  to 
have  recourse,  when  it  would  introduce  multiplicity 
into  the  idea  of  God. 

Jesus  appears  to  have  remained  a stranger  to  these 
refinements  of  theology,  which  were  very  soon  to  fill 
the  world  with  sterile  discussions.  The  metaphysical 
theory  of  the  Word,  as  we  find  it  in  the  writings  of 
his  cotemporary  Philo,  in  the  Chaldean  Targums,  and 
previously  in  the  book  of  “ Wisdom, ”f  is  not  percep 

ply  a foreign  influence,  The  ‘‘  Divine  Intelligence’’  {Mainyu  Khratu)  figures  U 
the  Zend  books;  but  it  does  not  serve  there  as  the  basis  of  a theory;  it  enters  only 
into  certain  invocations.  The  comparisons  which  have  been  attempted  betwe  en 
the  Alexandrian  theory  of  the  Word  and  certain  points  of  the  Egyptian  theolo- 
gy are  not  without  value.  But  nothing  indicates  that  in  the  centuries  which 
preceded  the  Christian  era,  Palestinian  Judaism  had  borrowed  any  thing  from 

Viii,  10. 

t IX  1-2;  XVI,  12.  Comp  vii,  12;  viii,  5 seqq. ; ix,  and  in  general  ix-xi.  Thesf 
prosopopoeia  of  personified  Wisdom  ure  found  in  books  far  more  ancient.  Prw 
VIII,  IX;  Job,  xxviii. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


226 


t’ble  either  in  the  Logia  of  Matthew,  oi  in  general  in 
tlie  synoptics,  interpreteis  so  authentic  of  the  wordi 
of  Jesus.  The  doctrine  of  the  Word,  indeed,  had  no 
thing  in  common  with  Messianism.  The  Word  of 
Philo  and  of  the  Targums  is  in  no  wise  the  Messiah.  It 
fe  John  the  Evangelist  or  his  school,  who  after wardji 
sought  to  prove  that  Jesus  is  tlie  Word,  and  who  ere 
ated  from  this  stand-point  an  entirely  new  theology, 
very  different  from  that  of  the  kingdom  of  God.*  The 
essential  character  of  the  Word  is  that  of  creator  and 
of  providence  ; now  Jesus  never  claimed  to  have  cre- 
ated the  world,  nor  to  govern  it.  His  portion  will  be 
to  judge  it,  to  renew  it.  The  character  of  judge  of  t1?e 
final  assizes  of  humanity,  such  is  tlie  essential  attribute 
which  Jesus  attributes  to  himself,  the  character  which 
all  the  first  Christians  gave  him.f  Till  that  great  day 
he  sits  at  the  right  of  God  as  his 

minister  and  his  future  avenger.j;  The  superhuman 
Christ  of  the  Byzantine  apsides,  seated  as  judge  of  the 
world,  in  the  midst  of  the  apostles,  who  are  analogous 
to  himself  and  superior  to  the  angels  who  only  stand 
and  wait,  is  the  exact  representation  of  that  conception 
of  the  “Son  of  man,’’  the  first  traits  of  which  we  find 
so  strongly  indicated  already  in  the  Book  of  Daniel. 

At  any  rate,  the  rigor  of  a premeditated  scholastic- 
ism belonged  in  no  wise  to  such  a world.  The  whole 
mass  of  ideas  which  we  have  set  forth  formed  in  the 
minds  of  the  disciples  a theological  system  so  far  from 
xed,  that  they  make  the  Son  of  God,  this  species  of 

♦ John,  1, 1-14;  I John,  v,  7;  xix,  13.  It  will  be  remembered,  moreorer, 
that,  in  the  Gospel  of  John,  the  expression  of  “ Word  does  not  recur  out  oi 
the  prologue,  and  that  the  narrator  never  places  it  in  the  mouth  of  Jesus 
+ Ada,  X,  42. 

t Matt,  XXVI,  64;  Mark,  xvi,19,  Luke,  xxii,  vii,55;  Rom.,  viii,  34^ 

Bphes.,  I,  20;  Coloss.,  III,  l;Heb.  i,  3,.  13;  vni,  1;  x,  12;  xii.  2;  I Pet  , iii,  22.  See 
the  passages  previously  cited  in  regard  to  the  position  of  the  JewLsh  Mdathront» 

10* 


226 


ORIGINS  DF  CHRISTIANITY. 


divine  reduplication,  act  merely  as  man.  He  is  t€inpfc 
ed  ; he  is  ignorant  of  many  things  ; he  corrects  him* 
self  ;*  he  is  dejected,  discouraged,  he  ashs  his  Fathei 
to  spare  him  trials ; he  submits  to  God  like  a son.f 
lie  who  is  to  be  the  judge  of  tlie  world,  knows  not  the 
day  of  judgment.:]:  He  takes  precautions  for  his  safe 

ty.j  Shortly  after  his  birth,  it  is  necessary  to  secrete 
him  to  avoid  mighty  men  who  desired  to  kill  him.§  In 
exorcisms,  the  devil  wrangles  with  him  and  does  not 
go  at  first.T  In  his  miracles,  a painful  effort  is  per 
ceived,  a weariness  as  if  something  had  gone  out  of 
him.**  All  this  is  simply  the  work  of  a messenger  of 
God,  a man  protected  and  favored  of  God.ff  We  must 
ask  here  neither  logic  nor  consistency.  Tlie  need  that 
Jesus  had  to  yield  himself  to  the  faith  and  enthusiasm 
of  his  disciples,  piled  up  contradictory  notions.  To 
the  Messianists  of  the  millenarian  school,  to  the  exci- 
ted readers  of  the  books  of  Daniel  and  Enoch,  he  was 
the  Son  of  man ; to  the  Jews  of  the  common  faith,  to 
the  readers  of  Isaiah  and  Micah,  he  was  the  Son  of  Da- 
vid ; to  the  affiliated  he  was  the  Son  of  God,  or  sim- 
ply the  Son.  Others,  without  being  blamed  for  it  by 
the  disciples,  believed  him  John  the  Baptist  alive 
again,  Elias,  or  Jeremiah,  according  to  the  popular 
belief  that  the  ancient  prophets  should  awaken  to  pre- 
pare the  way  of  the  Messiah.;]::]; 

An  absolute  conviction,  or  to  s[>eak  more  correctly, 
nthusiasm,  which  deprived  him  even  of  the  possibili- 
y of  doubt,  covered  all  this  liardihood.  We  can  bul 

• Matt.)  X,  y,  compare  with  xxviii,  19. 

+ Matt,  XXVI,  39;  John,  xii,  27.  % Mark,  xiii,  32. 

I Matt,  XII,  14-16;  xiv,  13;  Mark,  m,  6-7;  ix,  29-30;  John,  vii,  1 eeqq. 
b Matt. , II , 20.  H Matt. , xvii , 20 ; Mark,  ix,  26. 

^ Luke,  45-46;  John,  xi,  33,  38.  ff  Acts,  ii,  22. 

Matt.,  XIV,  2;  xvi,  14;  xvii,  3 eeqq. ; Mark,  vi,  14  15  mi.  28;  Luke, 
•eqq.;19. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


227 


feebly  comprehend,  with  our  cold  and  timoious  n» 
tures,  such  a manner  of  being  possessed  by  the  idea 
of  which  he  makes  himself  the  apostle.  To  us,  races 
profoundly  serious,  conviction  means  sincerity  with 
ourselves.  But  sincerity  with  ourselves  has  not  miicl 
meaning  among  the  Eastern  nations,  who  are  littia 
accustomed  to  the  delicacy  of  the  critical  mind.  Good 
faith  and  imposture  are  words  which,  in  our  rigid 
conscience,  are  opposed  like  two  irreconcilable  terms 
In  the  East,  between  the  two  there  are  a thousand 
subterfuges,  a thousand  evasions.  The  authors  of  the 
apocryphal  books,  (of  “ Daniel  ” and  of  Enoch,”  for 
example,)  exalted  as  they  were,  committed  for  their 
cause,  and  most  certainly  without  the  shadow  of  a 
scruple,  an  act  which  we  shcmld  call  a forgery.  Mate- 
rial truth  has  very  little  value  to  the  Oriental;  he  sees 
everything  through  his  ideas,  his  interests  and  his  pas* 
sions. 

History  is  impossible,  unless  we  resolutely  admit 
that  there  are  many  degrees  of  sincerity.  All  great 
things  are  achieved  by  the  people  ; now  the  people  are 
led  only  by  yielding  to  their  ideas.  The  philosopher 
who,  knowing  this,  isolates  and  intrenches  himself  in 
his  nobility,  is  greatly  to  be  praised.  But  he  who 
takes  humanity  with  its  illusions,  and  seeks  to  act  up- 
on it  and  with  it,  cannot  be  blamed.  Ceesar  know 
very  well  that  he  was  not  the  son  of  Yenus ; France 
would  not  be  what  she  is,  had  she  not  believed  for  a 
thousand  years  in  the  sacred  ampulla  of  Eheims.  It  ia 
easy  for  us,  impotent  as  we  are,  to  call  this  falsehood, 
and,  proud  of  our  timid  honesty,  to  treat  with  con 
tempt  the  heroes  who  accepted  under  other  conditions 
the  battle  of  life.  When  we  shall  have  done  with  oui 


228 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


scruples  what  they  did  with  their  falsehoods,  we  shall 
have  the  right  to  be  severe  upon  them.  At  least  we 
must  make  a broad  distinction  between  societies  like 
our  own,  in  which  everything  takes  place  in  the  matu 
ity  of  reflection,  and  the  simple  and  credulous  socie* 
ties  in  which  the  faiths  were  born  which  have  master 
}d  the  centuries.  There  is  no  great  foundation  which 
does  not  repose  upon  a legend.  The  only  guilt  in  such 
a case,  is  that  of  humanity  which  will  be  deceived . 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


229 


CHAPTEE  XVI. 

MIRACLES . 

TVo  means  of  proof  only,  miracles  and  the  fulfil- 
ment of  the  prophecies,  could,  in  the  opinion  of  the 
cotemporaries  of  Jesus,  establish  a supernatural  mis 
sion.  Jesus,  and  especially  his  disciples,  employed 
these  two  methods  of  demonstration  with  perfect  good 
faith.  For  a longtime  Jesus  had  been  convinced  that 
the  prophets  had  written  only  in  view  of  him.  He 
found  himself  in  their  sacred  oracles  ; he  looked  upon 
himself  as  the  mirror  in  which  all  the  prophetic  spirit 
of  Israel  had  read  the  future.  Tlie  Christian  school, 
perhaps  even  during  the  life  of  its  founder,  sought  to 
prove  th^t  Jesus  corresponded  perfectly  to  all  that  the 
prophets  had  predicted  of  the  Messiah.*  In  many 
cases  the  correspondences  were  altogether  exterior, 
and  are  hardly  cognizable  to  us.  It  was  usually  fortu- 
tous  or  insignificant  circumstances  in  the  life  of  the 
Master  that  reminded  the  disciples  of  certain  passages 
#f  the  Psalms  and  prophets,  in  which,  by  reason  of 
tlieir  constant  pre-occupation,  they  saw  references  to 
him.f  The  exegesis  of  the  times  thus  consisted  almost 

* For  example,  Matt,  i,  22;  ii,  5-6, 15, 18;  iv,  15. 

t Matt.,  1,23;  iv,6,14;  xm,  31,  54,  66;  xxvii,  9,85;  Mark,  xiv,  27;  XT,  Sft 
John,  XII,  14-16;  XVIII,  9;  xix,  19,  24,  28,  36. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


entirely  in  plays  upon  words,  and  in  citations  made  m 
an  artificial  and  arbitrary  manner.  The  synagogue 
had  no  list  officially  fixed  of  the  passages  which  relat- 
ed to  the  future  reign.  The  Messianic  applicaticmg 
were  free,  and  constituted  much  rather  artifices  of 
etyle  than  a serious  mode  of  argument. 

As  to  miracles,  they  were  considered,  at  that  time, 
the  iiidispensible  mark  of  the  divine  and  the  sign  of 
the  prophetic  calling.  The  legends  of  Elijah  and 
Elisha  were  full  of  them.  It  was  the  received  opin- 
ion that  the  Messiah  would  perform  many.*  A few 
miles  from  the  place  where  Jesus  dwelt,  in  Samaria, 
a magician  named  Simon  created  for  himself  by  his 
illusions  a character  almost  divine. f Afterwards, 
when  it  was  desired  to  found  the  fame  of  Apollonius 
of  Tyana  and  to  prove  that  his  life  had  been  the  Visit 
of  a God  to  the  earth,  it  was  thought  that  in  order  to 
succeed  in  this,  a vast  round  of  miracles  must  be  in- 
vented as  his  work.:]:  The  Alexandrian  philosophers 

themselve,  Plotinus  and  the  rest,  are  reputed  to  have 
performed  them.|  Jesus  had  therefore  to  choose  be- 
tween these  two  alternatives,  either  to  renounce  his 
mission,  or  to  become  a wonder-worker.  We  must  re- 
member that  all  antiquity,  with  the  exception  of  the 
great  scientific  schools  of  Greece  and  their  Koman 
adepts,  accepted  miracles ; that  Jesus,  not  only  bo^ 
iieved  in  them,  but  had  not  the  least  idea  of  a natural 
onler  governed  by  laws.  His  knowledge  on  this  point 
was  in  no  wise  superior  to  that  of  his  cotemporaries. 
Moreover,  one  of  his  most  deeply  rooted  opinions  was 

♦ John,  VII,  34;  IV  Esdras,  xiii,  60.  f Acts^  viii,  9 seqq. 

1 See  his  biography  by  Philostratus. 

I See  the  Lives  of  the  Sophists,  by  Eunapfus;  the  Life  of  Plotinus,  by  Por 
phyry;  that  of  Proclus,  by  Marinus;  that  of  Isidorus,  attributed  to  Dsmasciuf 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


231 


that  with  faith  and  prayer  man  has  ail  power  over  na 
ture.*  The  faculty  of  performing  miracles  was  cjn 
sidered  a licence  regularly  imparted  by  God  to  men^’f 
and  was  not  at  all  surprising. 

Time  has  changed  into  something  very  grievous  t 
H8  that  which  was  the  power  of  the  great  founder,  an 
if  ever  the  worship  of  Jesus  grows  feeble  in  the  heari 
of  humanity,  it  will  be  because  of  those  very  acts 
which  made  men  believe  on  him.  Criticism  experi- 
ences before  these  historical  phenomena  no  embarrass- 
ment. A thaumaturgist  of  our  days,  unless  of  extreme 
simplicity,  as  has  been  the  case  among  certain  outcasts 
of  Germany,  is  detestable ; for  he  performs  miracles 
without  believing  in  them  ; he  is  a charlatan.  But  if 
we  take  a Francis  d’ Assisi,  the  question  is  altogether 
changed  ; the  miraculous  cycle  of  the  birth  of  the  or- 
der of  St.  Francis,  far  frotn  shocking  us,  causes  us 
real  pleasure.  The  founders  of  Christianity  lived  in  a 
state  of  poetic  ignorance  at  least  as  complete  as  St. 
Clare  and  the  tres  socii.  They  thought  it  very  natural 
that  their  master  should  have  interviews  with  Moses 
and  Elias,  that  he  should  command  the  elements,  and 
that  he  should  heal  the  sick.  We  must  remember 
besides,  that  every  idea  loses  something  of  its  purity 
when  it  aspires  to  realization.  We  never  succeed  but 
that  the  delicacy  of  the  soul  experiences  some  shocks. 
Such  is  the  feebleness  of  the  human  mind,  that  th 
_hest  causes  are  ordinarily  gained  only  for  bad  reasons 
The  demonstrations  of  the  primitive  expounders  of 
Christianity  repose  upon  the  poorest  arguments.  Mo 
Bes,  Columbus  and  Mahomet,  triumphed  over  obsta^ 
cles  only  by  taking  into  consideration  each  day  tli€ 

• Matt.,  xviij  19;  xxi,  21-22;  Mark,  xi,  23-24.  | Matt.,  ix,  ?. 


282 


ORIGINS  OP  CHRISTIANITY. 


weakness  of  men  and  by  not  always  giving  the  true 
reasons  of  the  truth.  It  is  probable  that  the  assem- 
blage about  Jesus  was  more  struck  by  his  miracles  than 
by  his  teachings  so  deeply  divine.  We  must  add  tha 
undoubtedly  popular  fame,  before  and  after  the  death 
of  Jesus,  enormously  exaggerated  the  number  of  acta 
of  this  kind.  The  types  of  the  evangelical  miracles, 
indeed,  do  not  present  much  variety  ; they  repeat  each 
other  and  seem  traced  over  a very  small  number  of 
patterns,  fitted  to  the  taste  of  the  country. 

It  is  impossible,  among  the  miraculous  stories,  the 
wearisome  enumeration  of  which  the  Gospels  contain, 
to  distinguish  the  miracles  which  have  been  attributed 
to  Jesus  by  popular  opinion  from  those  in  which  he 
consented  to  take  an  active  part.  It  is  impossible 
above  all  to  know  whether  the  ungracious  circum- 
stances of  exertion,  groans,  and  other  traits  character- 
rstic  of  jugglery,'^  are  really  historic  or  are  the  fruit 
of  the  belief  of  the  compilers,  much  inclined  to  magic, 
and  living,  in  this  respect,  in  a world  analogous  to 
that  of  the spirits  ” of  our  days.f  Almost  all  the 
miracles  which  Jesus  thought  he  performed  appear  to 
have  been  miracles  of  healing.  Medicine  was  at  that 
time  in  Judea  what  it  still  is  in  the  East,  that  is  to  say 
in  no  respect  scientific,  but  absolutely  abandoned  tc 
individual  inspiration.  Scientific  medicine,  founded 
live  centuries  before  by  Greece,  was,  in  the  time  of 
Jesus,  unknown  to  the  Jews  of  Palestine.  In  such  a 
condition  of  knowledge,  the  presence  of  a superior 
Uian,  treating  the  sick  with  gentleness,  and  giving  him 

• Luke,  VIII,  46-46;  John,  xi,  33,  38. 

t Acts,  II,  seqq. ; it,  31;  viii,  15  seqq;  x,  44  seqq.  . For  nearly  a century,  th« 
Apostles  and  their  disciples  thought  only  of  miracles.  (See  the  Acts,  the  writings  ol 
St.  Paul,  the  extracts  of  Papias,  in  Eusebius,  Hist.  EccU,  III,  39,  etc.  Comp> 
Hark,  III,  15;  xvi,  17-18, 20 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


233 


by  some  sensible  signs  tlie  assurance  of  his  recovery 
is  often  a decisive  remedy.  Who  dare  say  that  in 
many  cases,  and  apart  from  injuries  of  a decided  char* 
acter,  the  contract  of  an  exquisite  person  is  not  worth 
all  the  resources  of  pharmacy  ? The  pleasure  of  see 
ing  him  heals.*  He  gives  what  he  can,  a smile,  a 
hope,  and  that  is  not  unavailing. 

Jesus  had  no  idea  of  a rational  medical  science  any 
more  than  his  cotemporaries  ; he  believed  with  all  the 
world  that  cures  were  to  be  effected  by  religious  rites, 
and  such  a faith  was  perfectly  logical.  From  the  mo- 
ment that  disease  is  regardi^d  as  tlie  punishment  of  a 
sin,f  or  the  work  of  a demon, :j:  not  the  result  of  physical 
causes,  the  best  physician  was  the  holy  man,  who  pos- 
sessed power  in  the  supernatural  realm.  Healing  was 
considered  a moral  act;  Jesus,  who  felt  his  moral 
force,  must  have  believed  himself  specially  endowed 
for  healing.  Persuaded  that  the  touch  of  his  garment,! 
the  imposition  of  his  hands, § did  good  to  the  sick,  he 
would  have  been  unfeeling  had  he  refused  to  the  suf- 
fering an  alleviation  which  it  was  in  his  power  to  ac 
cord.  The  cure  of  the  sick  was  considered  '/no  of  the 
signs  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  always  associated 
with  the  emancipation  of  the  poor.^  Both  were  signs 
of  the  great  revolution  which  was  to  end  in  the  re- 
dress of  all  infirmities. 

One  of  the  cures  which  Jesus  oftenest  performs,  is 
exorcism,  or  the  casting  out  of  devils.  A singular 
readiness  to  believe  in  demons  reigned  in  all  minds. 
U was  a universal  opinion,  not  only  in  Ju3ei,  but  iu 

• John,  V,  14;  IX,  1 seqq  , 34. 

+ Matt.  IX,  32-33;  xii,  22;  Luke,  xiii,  11, 10 

i Luke,  /III,  4’-46. 

$ Matt,  XI,  6 XV,  30-31,  I uke,  ix,  1-2,  6- 


f Lake,  IV,  40. 


234 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


the  whole  world,  that  demons  take  possession  of  cer 
tain  persons  and  make  them  act  contrary  to  their  own 
will.  A Persian  div^  named  many  times  in  the 
Avesta,* daeva^  the  div  of  concupiscence^” 
alopted  by  the  Jews  under  the  name  of  Asmodeua,^ 
became  the  cause  of  all  hysterical  troubles  among  wo 
men4  Epilepsy,  the  mental  and  nervous  diseasesj  in 
which  the  patient  seems  to  have  lost  all  self-controh 
infirmities  the  cause  of  which  is  not  apparent,  like 
deafness  and  dumbness, § were  explained  in  the  same 
manner.  The  admirable  treatise  of  Hippocrates,  ‘‘  On 
the  Sacred  Disease,”  which  founded,  four  centuries  and 
a half  before  Jesus,  the  true  principles  of  medicine  up» 
on  that  subject,  had  not  banished  from  the  world  so 
great  an  error.  It  was  supposed  that  there  were  pro- 
cesses more  or  less  efiicacious  for  driving  away  demons ; 
the  vocation  of  exorcist  was  a regular  profession  like 
that  of  the  physician.^  There  is  no  doubt  that  Jesus 
had,  during  his  lifetime,  the  reputation  of  possessing 
the  deepest  secrets  of  that  art.**  There  were  then 
many  lunatics  in  Judea,  doubtless  because  of  the 
great  spiritual  exaltation.  These  lunatics,  who  were 
permitted  to  wander  about,  as  is  still  the  case  in  the 
same  regions,  lived  in  the  abandoned  sepulchral  caves, 
the  common  retreat  of  vagrants.  Jesus  had  great 
effect  upon  these  unfortunates. ff  There  were  told  on 

* Vendidad,  xi,  26;  Tacna^  x,  18. 

+ Tout,  III,  8;  VI,  14;  Talm.  of  Bab.,  GitUn,  68  a. 

I Oomp.  Mark,  xvi,  9;  Lake,  viii,  2;  Gospel  of  the  Infai.C7,  16,  33;  Sfma 
Code,  published  in  the  Anecdota  Syriaca  of  M.  Land,  i,  p.  1 2 

|j  Jos.,  J?.  .7.,  VII,  VI,  3;  Lucian  PMopsewd.,  16;  Fhilostratus,  Life  of  Apoll. 
ill  ,38;  J V,  20;  Aretaeus,  De  cansis  niorh.  chron..  1,4. 

Matt., IX,  33;  XII,  22;  Mark,  ix,  16,  24.  Luke,  xi,  14. 

^ Tobity  VIII,  2-3;  Matt.,  xii,  27;  Mark,  ix,  38;  Acts,  xix,  18;  Joeejhus.  Ant., 
Vlll,  II,  5;  Justin,  Dial,  cum  Tryphone,  86;  Lucian,  Epigr.,xxiii  (xvii  JOindorf).’ 

••  Matt. , XVII,  20;  Mark,  ix,  24  seqq. 

ff  Matt. , VIII,  28 ; IX,  34;  xii,  43  seqq. ; XYii,  14  seqq. , 20 ; Mark  y,  1 seqq  ; Lukii 
riii,  27  seqq 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


236 


fhe  subject  of  his  cures  a multitude  of  strange  stories, 
in  wliich  all  the  credulity  of  the  time  gave  itself  full 
scope.  But  here  again  we  must  not  exaggerate  the 
difficulties.  The  disorders  which  they  explained  ag 
■)ossessions  were  often  very  slight.  At  the  presen 
lay  in  Syria,  those  are  regarded  as  lunatics  or  pos 
sessed  of  a demon,  (these  two  ideas  are  but  one,  med^ 
Jnoun^)^  who  are  only  somewhat  singular.  A gentle 
word  often  sufficed  in  this  case  to  drive  away  the  de- 
mon. Such  were  doubtless  the  means  employed  by  Je- 
sus. Who  knows  whether  his  celebrity  as  an  exorcist 
did  not  spread  about  without  his  knowing  it?  Persona 
who  reside  in  the  East  are  sometimes  surprised  to  find 
themselves,  after  a little  time,  in  possession  of  great 
renown  as  physician,  sorcerer,  or  discoverer  of  treas- 
ures, without  being  able  to  get  any  satisfactory  account 
of  the  facts  which  have  given  rise  to  these  strange  im- 
aginings. 

Many  circumstances  moreover  seem  to  indicate  that 
Jesus  was  a thaumaturgist  only  at  a late  period  and 
against  his  will.  Oftentimes  heperform.ed  his  miracles 
not  until  after  solicitation,  with  a manifest  disinclina- 
tion, and  while  reproaching  those  who  ask  them  for 
the  grossness  of  their  understanding.f  A singularity 
apparently  inexplicable,  is  the  care  he  takes  to  do  his 
miracles  privately,  and  the  injunction  which  he  gives 
o those  whom  he  heals  to  tell  it  to  no  man.J  When 
iLe  demons  desire  to  proclaim  him  son  of  God,  he  for 
bids  them  to  open  their  mouths;  it  is  in  spite  of  him 

* This  phrase,  Dcemonium  hahes  (Matt.,  xi,  18;  Luke,  vii,  33;  John,  vii,  20;  viii, 
48  seqq. ; x,  20  seqq.),  should  be  translated  by  “ Thou  art  mad,”  as  they  say  in 
Arabic.  Medjnoun  ente.  The  verb  ^ai/xovav  has  also,  in  all  classic  antiquity,  the 
•ense  of  “ to  be  a lunatic.” 

+ Matt. . XII,  39;  XVI,  4;  xvii,  16;  Mark,  viii,  17  seqq. ; xx,  18;  Luke,  ix,  41 
X Matt.,  VIII,  4;  ix,  Sh-Sl;  xii,  16  seqq. ; Mark,  i,  44;  vii,  24  leqq. ; vm,  26 


2S6 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


self  that  they  confess  him.*  These  traits  are  especiallj 
prominent  in  Mark,  who  is  above  all  the  Evangelist  of 
miracles  and  exoicisms.  It  seems  that  the  disciple 
who  furnished  the  principal  materials  for  that  Gospel 
Importuned  Jesus  by  his  admiration  for  prodigies,  and 
hat  the  master,  annoyed  by  a reputation  which  he 
felt  to  be  a burden,  often  said  to  him : Speak 

not  of  them  ” Once,  this  discord  culminated  :n  a 
singular  explosion, f an  outburst  of  impatience,  in  which 
we  perceive  the  weariness  which  these  perpetual  de- 
mands of  feeble  minds  caused  him.  One  would  say, 
at  times,  that  the  part  of  the  thaumaturgist  is  dis- 
agreeable to  him,  and  that  he  seeks  to  give  as  little 
publicity  as  possible  to  the  marvels  which  grow,  as  it 
were,  under  liis  feet.  When  his  enemies  ask  of  him  a 
miracle,  especially  a celestial  miracle,  a meteor,  he 
obstinately  refuses.^  We  are  then  permitted  to  be- 
lieve that  his  reputation  as  a miracle-worker  was  im- 
posed upon  him,  that  he  did  not  resist  it  very  much, 
but  that  he  did  nothing  to  aid  it,  and  that  at  all  events 
he  felt  the  emptiness  of  public  opinion  in  this  regard. 

It  would  be  departing  from  right  historic  methods 
to  listen  too  much  in  this  to  our  repugnances,  and  in 
order  to  evade  the  objections  which  might  be  raised 
against  the  character  of  Jesus,  to  suppress  facts  which, 
in  the  eyes  of  hiscotemporai  ies,  were  of  the  first  order. 
It  would  be  agreeable  to  say  that  these  are  additions  of 
disciples  far  inferior  to  their  master,  who,  unable  to 
conceive  ids  true  grandeur,  have  sought  to  elevate 
iiim  by  illusions  unworthy  of  him.  But  the  four  uar 

♦ Mark,  i.,  24-25,  34;  iii,  12;  Luke,  iv,  41. 
t Matt. , XVII,  16;  Mark,  ix,  1 8;  Luke,  ix,  41. 
t Matt. , XII,  38  seqq. ; xvi,  1 seqq. ; Mark,  via,  U. 

I Josephus, XVIIl,  III, 3. 

.'1 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


237 


ra tors  of  the  life  of  Jesus  are  unanimous  in  vaunting 
his  miracles ; one  of  them,  Mark,  the  interpreter  of  the 
apostle  Peter,*  insists  so  strongly  upon  this  point  that^ 
if  the  character  of  Christ  were  traced  exclusively  ac 
cording  to  his  Gospel,  he  would  be  represented  as  an 
exorcist  in  possession  of  charms  of  rare  efficacj^,  as 
very  powerful  sorcerer,  who  inspires  terror,  and  of 
whom  men  are  glad  to  be  rid.f  We  will  admit,  there- 
fore, unhesitatingly  that  acts  which  would  now  be 
considered  traits  of  illusion  or  of  hallucination,  figured 
largely  in  the  life  of  Jesus.  Must  we  sacrifice  to  this 
unpleasant  aspect  of  such  a life  its  sublime  aspect? 
Let  us  beware  of  it.  A mere  sorcerer  after  the  man- 
ner of  Simon  the  Magician,  could  not  have  brought 
about  a moral  revolution  like  that  which  Jesus  accom- 
plished. If  the  miracle- worker  had  eflfaced  in  Jesus 
the  moral  and  religious  reformer,  there  would  have 
sprung  from  him  a school  of  magic,  and  not  Chris- 
tianity. 

The  problem,  moreover,  is  presented  in  the  same 
manner  as  to  all  saints  and  religious  founders.  Things 
which  are  to-day  diseases,  such  as  epilepsy  and  visions, 
were  once  an  element  of  force  and  greatness.  Medi- 
cal science  can  tell  the  name  of  the  malady  which 
made  the  fortune  of  Mahomet.:}:  Almost  down  to  our 

day,  the  men  who  have  done  most  for  the  good  of  their 
kind  (the  excellent  Vincent  de  Paul  himself!)  have 
been,  whether  they  wished  it  or  not,  thaumaturgists. 
If  we  start  with  this  principle,  that  every  historic  per- 

♦ Papias,  in  Eusebius,  Hist,  eccl.,  Ill,  39. 

t Mark,  IV,  40;  v,  15. 17,  33,  36;  vi,  50;  x,  32.  C£  Matt.',  viii,  27,  34;  ix,  8;  xiv, 
27;  XVII,  6-7;  XXVIII,  5, 10;  Luke,  iv,  36;  v,  17;  viii,  25,  35,  37;  ix,  34.  The  Apocry’ 
l^al  Gospel  called  that  of  Thomas  the  Israelite  carries  this  character  to  th« 
most  shocking  absurdity.  Compare  the  Miracles  of  Infancy,  in  Tliilo,  Cod.  ApocK 
N.  T,f  p.  cx,  note.  | Hysteiia  musciUaris,  oi  Sch  lenlein. 


238 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTlANlTr. 


Bonage  to  whom  acts  have  been  attributed,  which  we  in 
the  nineteenth  century  hold  to  be  senseless  or  charla* 
tanic,  has  been  a lunatic  or  a charlatan,  the  canons  of 
criticism  are  violated.  The  school  of  Alexandria  was 
a noble  school,  and  yet  it  abandoned  itself  to  the  prac- 
tice of  an  extravagant  thauinaturgy.  Socrates  ana 
Pascal  were  not  exempt  from  hallucinations.  Facta 
are  to  be  explained  by  causes  which  are  propprtioned 
to  them.  The  weaknesses  of  the  human  mind  engen- 
der only  weakness;  great  things  have  always  great 
causes  in  the  nature  of  man,  although  often  they  are 
produced  with  a cortege  of  littlenesses  which,  to  super- 
ficial understandings,  obscure  their  grandeur. 

In  a general  sense,  it  is  therefore  true  to  say  cJiat 
Jesus  was  a miracle-worker  and  an  exorcist  only  in 
spite  of  himself.  Miracles  are  ordinarily  the  work  of 
the  public  even  more  than  of  him  to  whom  they  are 
attributed,  Jesus  obstinately  refused  to  perform  pro- 
digies which  the  multitude  had  created  for  him ; and 
it  would  have  been  the  greatest  miracle  had  he  not 
performed  any;  never  would  the  laws  of  history  and 
of  j)opular  psychology  have  suffered  more  downright 
abrogation.  The  miracles  of  Jesus  were  a violence 
done  him  by  his  time,  a concession  which  the  necessity 
of  the  hour  wrung  from  him.  So  the  exorcist  and  the 
miracle-worker  have  fallen  ; but  the  religious  reformer 
shall  live  forever. 

Even  those  who  did  not  believe  on  him  were  struck 
by  these  acts,  and  sought  to  witness  them.*  The  pa- 
gans and  the  rude  common  people  experienced  a feel- 
ing of  fear,  and  besought  him  to  depart  from  their  re* 

♦ Matt.,  xrr,  1 seqq. ; Mark,  vi,  14;  Luke,  ix,  7;  xxnx,  ft. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


239 


gion.*  Many  thought  perhaps  to  use  his  name  for  se- 
ditious movements.f  But  the  altogether  moral  and 
not  at  all  political  direction  of  the  character  of  J esua 
saved  him  from  these  entanglements.  His  peculiar 
kingdom  was  in  the  circle  of  children  which  a sirailai 
childlikeness  of  imagination  and  a like  foretaste  of 
lieaven  had  gathered  and  held  about  him. 

• Mstt. , VIII,  34;  Mark,  ▼ 17  no,  87.  ^ vi,  14-lft. 


J40 


ORIGINS  OP  CHRISTIANITY. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

9KWHITITB  FORM  OF  THE  IDEAS  OF  JBSF8  OH  fll 
KIHGDOM  OP  GOD. 

"Wij  suppose  that  this  last  phase  of  the  activity  of 
Jesus  endured  about  eighteen  months,  from  his  return 
from  the  pilgrimage  to  the  passover  of  the  year  31,  to 
his  journey  for  the  feast  of  the  Tabernacles  in  the  year 
32.*  During  this  period,  the  ideas  of  Jesus  do  not 
appear  to  have  been  enriched  by  any  new  element; 
but  all  that  was  in  him  was  developed  and  produced 
with  an  ever  increasing  degree  of  force  and  of  bold- 
ness. 

The  fundamental  idea  of  Jesus  was,  from  the  first 
day,  the  establishment  of  the  kingdom  of  God.  But 
this  kingdom  of  God,  as  we  have  already  said,  Jesus 
seems  to  have  understood  in  very  different  senses.  Al 
times,  he  would  be  taken  for  a democratic  chief,  de- 
siring simply  the  reign  of  the  poor  and  the  disinherited 
At  other  times,  the  kingdom  of  God  is  the  literal  ac 
complishment  of  the  apocalyptic  visions  of  Daniel  and 
Enoch.  Often,  finally,  the  kingdom  of  God  is  the 
kingdom  of  souls ; and  the  approaching  deliverance  is 

♦%John,  V,  1;  vii,2.  We  follow  the  system  of  John,  according  to  whom  thf 
public  life  of  Jesus  lasted  three  years.  The  synoptics,  on  the  contrary^  group  all 
me  fMSts  within  the  compass  of  a year. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


241 


the  deliverance  b}  tho  spirit.  Tlie  revolution  desired 
by  Jesus  is  then  that  which  really  occurred,  the  estab- 
lishment of  a new  worship,  purer  than  that  of  Moses. 
”A11  these  thoughts  appear  to  have  existed  at  some 
time  in  the  mind  of  Jesus.  The  first,  however,  that 
of  a temporal  revolution,  does  not  appear  long  to  have 
fixed  his  attention.  Jesus  never  regarded  the  earth, 
nor  the  riches  of  the  earth,  nor  material  power  as  wor- 
thy of  his  regard.  He  had  no  worldly  ambition. 
Sometimes,  by  a natural  consequence,  his  great  relig- 
ious importance  was  on  the  point  of  changing  into  so- 
cial importance.  People  came  to  him  to  ask  that  he 
would  constitute  himself  a judge  and  arbiter  in  mate- 
rial questions.  Jesus  repelled  these  propositions 
haughtily,  almost  as  insults.*  Full  of  his  celestial  ideal, 
he  never  emerges  from  his  disdainful  poverty.  As  to 
the  two  other  conceptions  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  Jesus 
appears  always  to  have  preserved  them  both.  If  he 
had  been  only  an  enthusiast,  led  astray  by  the  apoca 
lypses  upon  which  the  popular  imagination  fed,  he 
would  have  remained  an  obscure  sectary,  inferior  to 
those  whose  ideas  he  followed.  If  he  had  been  only  a 
puritan,  a sort  of  Channing  or  “Savoyard  Yicar,”  he 
would  not,  beyond  contradiction,  have  obtained  any 
success.  The  two  parts  of  his  system,  or,  to  speak 
more  properly,  his  two  conceptions  of  the  kingdom  of 
God,  sustained  each  other,  and  this  reciprocal  suppoit 
produced  his  incomparable  success.  The  first  Chris 
tians  were  visionaries,  living  in  a circle  of  ideas  which 
we  should  call  dreams ; but  at  the  same  time  they 
were  the  heroes  of  the  social  war  which  has  ended  in 
the  enfranchisement  of  the  conscience  and  the  estab« 


♦ Luke,  XII,  13*14. 

U 


242 


ORIGINS  OP  CHRISTIANITY, 


Ushment  of  a religion  whence  the  pure  worsliip,  ao 
nounced  by  the  founder,  will  at  length  come  forth. 

The  apocalyptic  ideas  of  Jesus,  in  their  most  com- 
plete form,  may  be  epitomized  thus  : The  end  of  the 

present  order  of  humanity  is  at  hand.  This  end  will 
he  an  immense  revolution,  “ an  anguish,”  like  to  the 
pains  of  child-birth ; a palingenesis  or  “ regeheration” 
according  to  the  word  of  Jesus  himself),*  preceded 
by  sombre  calamities  and  announced  by  strange  phe- 
nomena.f  On  that  great  day,  the  sign  of  the  Son  of 
Man  will  burst  forth  in  the  heavens ; it  will  be  a vision 
terrible  and  luminous  as  that  of  Sinai,  a great  tempest 
rending  the  sky,  a bolt  of  lire  flashing  in  the  twinkling 
of  an  eye  from  the  East  to  the  West.  The  Messiah 
will  appear  in  the  clouds,  clothed  in  glory  and  majesty, 
with  the  sound  of  trumpets,  surrounded  by  angels. 
His  disciples  will  sit  by  his  side  upon  thrones.  The 
dead  will  then  arise,  and  the  Messiah  will  proceed  to 
the  judgment.:}: 

Tn  this  judgment,  men  will  be  separated  into  two 
categories,  according  to  their  works.]  The  angels 
will  execute  the  sentence.§  The  chosen  will  enter  in- 
to a delightful  dwelling-place  which  has  been  prepared 
for  them  from  the  beginning  of  the  world  there  they 

♦ Matt.,  XIX,  28. 

t Matt. , XXIV,  3 seqq. ; Mark,  xiii,  4 seqq. ; Luke,  xvii,  22  seqq.  ;*  xxi,  7 seqq. 
It  should  be  remarked  that  the  picture  of  the  end  of  time  here  attributed  to  Je- 
eu3  by  the  synoptics  contains  many  touches  which  correspond  with  the  siege  of 
Jerusalem.  Luke  wrote  some  time  after  the  siege  (xxi,  9,  20,  24).  The  crmpils- 
tion  of  Matthew,  on  the  contrary,  carries  us  back  to  the  time  of  the  siege,  or 
very  little  afterwards.  Unquestionably,  however,  Jesus  announced  great  ter* 
ffors  as  necessarily  preceding  his  second  advent.  These  terrors  were  an  integral 
|>ortion  of  all  the  Jewish  apocalypses.  Enoch,  xcix-c,  cii,  cm  (division  of  Dill 
man)  ; Carm.  Sibyll. , III,  *^34  seqq  ; 633  seqq. ; ly,  168  seqq. ; V,  611  seqq.  In  Dan 
iel  also,  the  reign  of  the  Saints  will  come  only  after  the  desolation  shall  have 
been  complete  ( vii,  25  seqq. ; viii,  23  seqq.;  ix,  26-27,  xn,  1) . 

t Matt.,  XVI  27;  xix,  2>»;  xx,  21;  xxiv,  30  seqq. ; xxv,  31  seqq.;  xxvi,64;  Markf 
XIV,  62;  Luke,  XXII,  30;  I Cor. , xv  62;  I Thess.,  iv,  15  seqq. 

I Matt . , x-iii , 38  seqq. ; xxv,  § Matt. , xxii , 39,  41,  49. 

H Matt.;  xxv,  34  Comp.  John,  xiv  2. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


243 


will  sit,  clothed  in  light,  at  a feast  presided  over  by 
Abraham,*  the  patriarchs  and  tlie  prophets.  Tliis  will 
be  tlie  smaller  number.f  The  others  will  go  into 
Oehenna,  Gehenna  was  the  valley  west  of  Jerusa- 
lem. At  various  periods  the  worship  of  fire  had  been 
practiced  in  it,  and  tlie  place  had  become  a sort  ol 
cloaca.  Gehenna  is  therefore  in  the  mind  of  Jesus  a 
dismal  valley,  foul  and  full  of  fire.  Those  excluded 
from  the  kingdom  will  be  burned  and  gnawed  by 
worms  in  company  with  Satan  and  his  rebel  angels.;} 
There,  there  shall  be  weeping  and  gnashing  of  teeth. | 
The  kingdom  of  God  will  be  like  a closed  hall,  lighted 
up  within,  in  the  midst  of  this  world  of  darkness  and 
of  torment.§ 

This  new  order  of  things  will  be  eternal.  Paradise 
and  Gehenna  shall  have  no  end.  An  impassable  abyss 
separates  them  one  from  the  other.^  The  Son  of  man, 
seated  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  will  preside  over  this 
final  condition  of  the  world  and  of  humanity.** 

That  all  this  was  understood  literally  by  the  disci- 
ples and  the  Master  himself  at  certain  moments,  stands 
forth,  absolutely  evidenced  in  the  writings  of  the 
time.  If  the  first  Christian  generation  has  any  deep  and 
constant  faith,  it  is,  that  the  world  is  on  the  point  of 
coming  to  an  end,f  f and  that  the  grand  revelation”:|::{: 

* Matt.,  VIII,  11;  XIII,  43;  xxvi,  29;  Luke,  xxiii,  28;  xvi,  22;  xxii,  80. 

+ Luke,  XIII,  23  seqq. 

t Matt.,  XXV,  41.  The  idea  of  the  fall  of  the  angels,  so  largely  developed 
the  Book  of  Enoch,  was  universally  admitted  in  the  circle  of  Jesus.  Jude,  I 
leqq. ; II  Ep.  attributed  to  Saint  Peter,  ii,  4, 11;  Rev.  xii,  9;  John,  viii,  44. 

I Matt.,  V,  22;  vm,  12;  x,  28;  xiii,  40,  42,  50;  xviii,  8;  xxiv,  51;  xxv,30;  Mark^ 
IX,  13,  etc.  § Matt.,  viii,  12;  XXII,  13;  XXV,  SO.  Comp.  Jos.,.B.  J.,  Ill,  viii,  5 

^ Luke,  XVI,  28  Mark,  iii,  29;  Luke,  xxii,  69;  Acts^  vii,  55. 

ft  Acts^  ii,  17 ; III,  19  seqq. ; I Cor.  xv,  23-24,  52;  I Thess.,  iii,  13;  iv,  14  seqq. ; r, 
23;  II  Thess.,  ii,  8;  I Tim  , vi,  14;  II  Tim.  iv,  1;  Tit.,  ii,  13;  James,  v,  3,  8;  Jude^ 
IS;  II  Pet.,  HI  entire; Revelations  entire,  and  especially  i,  1;  ii,  5,16,  iii,  11;  xt 
14;  XXII,  6,  7, 12, 20.  Comp.  IV  Esdra,s,  iv,  26.  7 , 

U Luke,  XVII,  SO;  I Cor.,  i,  7-8;  II  Thess.;  i 7;  I Pet.,  i,  7, 13;  Eev.,  l 1. 


244  . 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


of  Christ  is  soon  to  take  place.  This  startling  procla 
mation  : The  time  is  at  hand  !”*  which  opens  and 

closes  the  Apocalypse,  this  appeal  incessantly  repeated, 
that  hath  ears  to  hear,  let  him  hear,”f  are  the 
cries  of  hope  and  of  rallying  throughout  tlie  apostolic 
age.  A Syriac  expression,  Maran  atha^  ‘‘  Our  Lord 
is  coming.”:};  became  a sort  of  password  which  the  be- 
lievers exchanged  to  fortify  themselves  in  their  faith 
and  their  hopes.  The  Apocalypse,  written  in  the  year 
68  of  our  era,!  fixes  the  term  at  three  years  and  a 
half.§  The  “ Ascension  of  Isaiah  adopts  a calcula- 
tion very  nearly  approaching  this. 

Jesus  never  undertook  such  precision.  When  inter- 
rogated as  to  the  time  of  his  coming,  he  always  re- 
fused to  respond ; once  even  he  declared  that  the  date 
of  this  great  day  is  known  only  to  the  Father,  who 
has  revealed  it  neither  to  the  angels  nor  to  the  Son.** 
He  said  that  the  time  when  the  kingdom  of  God  was 
watched  for  with  anxious  curiosity  was  precisely  that 
in  which  it  would  not  come.ff  He  repeated  inces- 
santly that  it  would  be  a surprise  as  in  the  time  of 
Noah  and  of  Lot ; that  tliey  must  be  upon  their  guard 
always  ready  to  go  ; that  each  should  watch  and  have 
his  lamp  burning  as  for  a marriage  procession,  which 
comes  unexpectedly  ;:}::{:  that  the  Son  of  man  would 
come  as  a thief,  in  an  hour  when  they  looked  not  for 
him:|!j  that  he  would  appear  as  the  lightning,  that 

• Rev.,  I,  3;  xxii,  10, 

* Matt.,  XI,  16:  xiii,  9, 43;  Mark,  iv,  9,  23;  vii,  16;  Luke,  viii,  8;  xiv,  35;  Rev.  ii, 

T,  11,  v7,  29;  III,  6, 13,  22;  xiii,  9.  J I Cor.,  xvi,  22. 

I Rev. , XVII,  9 seqq.  The  sixth  Emperor,  whom  the  author  gives  as  reigning, 

Lb  Galba.  Ihe  dead  Emperor,  who  should  return  is  Nero,  whose  name  is  given 
in  figures  (xiii,  18).  § Rev.,  xi,  2,  3;  xii,  14.  Comp.  Daniel,  vii,  26;  xii,  7. 

^ Chap.  IV,  V,  2 and  14.  Comp.  Cedrenus,  p.  68  (Paris,  164T). 

♦*  Matt.,  XXIV,  36;  Mark,  xiii,  32. 

+t  Luke,  XVII,  20.  Comp.  Talm.  of  Bab.  Sanhedrin,  97  a. 

II  Matt.,  XXIV,  c6  seqq. ; Mark,  xiii  32  seqq  Luke,  xii,  36  seqq. ; xvii,  20  seqq 

II  Luke,  XII,  40;  II  FeC.,  iii,  10. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


245 


lighfceneth  from  one  part  of  heaven  to  the  other.*  But 
liis  declarations  as  to  the  proximity  of  tlie  catastrophe 
are  nnmistakable.f  “ Tliis  generation  shall  not  pass 
away,”  said  he,  “ till  all  these  things  be  fuliilled 
There  be  some  standing  here,  which  shall  not  taste  of 
death  till  they  see  the  Son  of  Man  coming  in  hia 
kingdom.”:]:  lie  blames  those  who  do  not  believe  in 

him  because  they  are  not  able  to  read  the  signs  of  the 
coming  reign  : When  it  is  evening,  ye  say,  It  will  be 

fair  weather : for  the  sky  is  red.  And  in  the  morning, 
It  will  be  foul  weather  to-day : for  the  sky  is  red  and 
lowering.  O ye  hypocrites,  ye  can  discern  the  face 
of  the  sky  ; but  can  ye  not  discern  the  signs  of  the 
times ?”|1  By  an  illusion  common  to  all  great  Refor- 
mers, Jesus  imagined  the  end  much  nearer  than  it 
really  was ; he  did  not  take  into  account  the  slowness 
of  the  movements  of  humanity  ; he  imagined  he  was 
to  realize  in  one  day  that  which  eighteen  hundred 
years  later  was  not  yet  to  be  achieved. 

These  declarations,  formal  as  they  were,  preoccupied 
the  Christian  family  for  almost  sixteen  hundred  years. 
It  was  accepted  thajb  some  of  the  disciples  should  see 
the  day  of  final  revelation  before  death.  John  in  par- 
ticular was  considered  as  being  of  this  number  ;§  ma- 
ny believed  that  he  would  never  die.  Perhaps  this 
was  a later  opinion  produced  towards  the  close  of  the 
first  century  by  the  advanced  age  to  which  John  seems 
to  have  arrived,  this  age  having  giv^n  occasion  for 
the  belief  that  God  intended  to  preserve  him  indefin- 
itely until  the  great  day,  in  order  to  realize  the  dee* 

* Luke,  XVII,  24. 

f Matt,  X,  23;  xxiv-xxv  entire,  and  especially  xxiv,  29,  34;  Mark,  xiii,  89 
Luke,  xm,  35;  xxi,  28  seqq 

1 Matt,  XVI,  28;  xxiii,  36, 39;  xxiv,  34;  Mark,  viii,  38;  Luke,  ix,27;  xxi,  32. 

I Matt.,  XVI,  24;  Luke,  xu,  54-53,  § John,  xxi,  22  23. 


246 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY, 


laration  of  Jesus.  Be  this  as  it  niaj^,  at  his  death  the 
faith  of  many  was  unsettled,  and  his  disciples  gave  to 
the  prediction  of  Christ  a modified  meaning.* 

At  tlie  same  time  that  Jesus  fully  accepted  the  apo 
calyptical  beliefs,  as  they  are  found  in  the  Jewisl 
apocryphal  books,  he  accepted  the  dogma  which  i 
their  complement  or  rather  their  condition,  the  resui^ 
rection  of  the  dead.  That  doctrine,  as  we  have  alrea- 
dy said,f  was  yet  somewhat  new  in  Israel ; a multi- 
tude of  people  did  not  believe  it  or  did  not  know  it.;}: 
It  was  tlie  faith  of  the  Pharisees  and  of  the  fervent  fol- 
lowers of  the  Messianic  beliefs.!  Jesus  accepted  it 
without  reserve,  but  still  in  the  most  idealistic  sense. 
Many  imagined  that  in  the  resurrected  world  there 
would  be  eating,  drinking,  and  giving  in  marriage. 
Jesus  adniits  indeed  in  his  kingdom  a new  feast,  a ta- 
ble and  wine,§  but  he  formally  excludes  marriage. 
The  Sadducees  had  upon  the  subject  an  argument 
gross  in  appearance,  but  at  bottom  sufl&ciently  accord- 
ant with  the  old  theology.  It  will  be  remembered  that 
according  to  the  ancient  sages,  man  survived  death 
only  in  his  children.  The  Mosaic  code  had  consecrat- 
ed this  patriarchal  theory  by  a singular  institution, 
the  succession  of  the  Levites.  The  Sadducees  drew 
from  this  subtle  inferences  against  the  resurrection. 
Jesus  escaped  them  by  formally  declaring,  that  in  the 
hfe  eternal,  difference  of  sex  would  exist  no  more,  and 
that  man  should  be  like  the  angels.T^  At  times  he 

* John,  XXI,  22-23.  Chapte-r  xxi  of  the  fourth  Gospel  is  an  addition,  as 
proved  by  the  final  clause  of  the  primitive  compilation,  which  is  at  verse  31  oi 
chapter  xx.  But  the  addition  is  almost  cotemporaneous  with  the  publication  o 
this  Gospel.  f See  above,  p.  89-90.  % Mark,  ix,  9;  Luke,  xx,  27  seqa 

II  Dan.,  XII,  2 seqq.;  II  Macc.,  Chap,  vii  entire;  xii,  45-46;  xiv,  46;  Acts,rKX.m 
6,  8;.  Jos.,  .4ni.,  XVIII,  I,  3;  5.  J.,  II,  viii,  14;  III,  viii,  6. 

& Matt.,  XXVI,  29;  Luke,  xxii,  30. 

f Matt.,  xxii,  24  seqq. ; Luke,  xx,  34-38;  Ebionite  Gospel,  called  “ of  the  Egypt 
tians,’’  in  Clem,  of  Alex.,  Strom,  jiij  9, 18;  Clem.  Rom. , Bpist. , ii,  12. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


247 


seems  to  promise  resurrection  only  to  the  righteous,* 
the  punishment  of  the  wicked  consisting  in  complete 
death  and  annihilation.f  Oftenest,  however,  Jesus 
will  have  the  resurrection  applied  to  the  wicked  fo 
their  eternal  confusion.:]: 

Nothing,  we  see,  in  all  these  theories,  was  absolute 
y new.  The  gospels  and  the  writings  of  the  apostles 
contain  but  little  of  apocalyptic  doctrine  which  is  not 
found  already  in  Daniel, ”|  ‘‘  Enoch,”§  and  the  “ Sy- 

billine Oracles”^  of  Jewish  origin.  Jesus  accepted 
these  ideas,  generally  known  among  his  cotempora- 
ries. He  made  them  the  basic  point  of  his  action,  or  to 
speak  more  correctly,  one  of  his  basic  points  ; for  he 
had  too  deep  an  idea  of  his  true  work  to  establish  it 
solely  upon  principles  so  frail, — so  liable  to  receive 
from  events  a withering  refutation. 

It  is  evident,  indeed,  that  such  a doctrine,  taken  by 
itself  in  a literal  manner,  had  no  future.  The  woi  ld, 
being  obstinately  enduring,  would  destroy  it.  One 
generation  at  most  was  reserved  to  it.  The  faith  of 
the  first  Christian  generation  is  explained  ; but  the 
faith  of  the  second  generation  is  explained  no  longer. 
After  the  death  of  John,  or  of  the  last  survivor,  who- 
ever he  may  have  been,  of  the  group  that  had  seen  the 
Master,  the  declaration  of  the  latter  was  proven  an  illu- 
sion,**  If  the  doctrine  of  Jesus  had  been  only  a be 
lief  in  the  speedy  destruction  of  the  world,  it  woul 
certainly  to-day  be  sleeping  in  oblivion.  What  the 

* Luke,  XIV,  14;  xx,  35'36.  This  is  also  the  opinion  of  St.  Paul;  I Cor.,  xv 
leqq  ; I Thess.,  iv,  12  seqq.  See  above,  p.  90. 
t Comp.  IV  Esdras,  ix,  22.  % Matt.,  xxv,  32  seqq. 

I See  especially  chapters  ii,  vi~viii,  x-xiii. 

S Ch.  I,  XLV-Lii,  Lxii,  xciii,  9 seqq. 

^ Book  III,  57  seqq. ; 652  seqq. ; 7G6  seqq. ; 795  seqq. 

These  pangs  of  the  Christian  conscience  are  artlessly  set  ^rth  in  the  secMif 
Bpistle  attributed  to  St  Peter,  iii,  8 seqq. 


248 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY, 


has  saved  it?  The  grand  breadth  of  the  evatgelical 
conceptions  which  has  permitted  under  the  same  sym- 
bol doctrines  appro[>riate  to  very  different  intellectual 
conditions.  The  world  has  not  come  to  an  end,  as 
Jesus  announced,  as  his  disciples  believed.  But  it  has 
been  renewd,  and  in  one  sense  as  Jesus  desired.  It  is 
because  it  looked  in  two  directions  that  his  thought  has 
been  fruitful.  His  chimera  has  not  had  the  fate  of  so 
many  others  which  have  crossed  the  human  mind,  be- 
cause it  concealed  a germ  of  life  which,  introduced, 
thanks  to  an  envelope  of  fable,  into  the  womb  of  hu- 
manity, has  borne  eternal  fruits. 

Say  not  that  this  is  a kindly  interpretation  imagined 
to  free  the  honor  of  our  great  Master  from  the  cruel 
contradiction  given  by  reality  to  his  dreams.  Ho,  no. 
This  true  kingdom  of  God,  this  kingdom  of  the  Spirit 
which  makes  each  one  a king  and  priest  ; this  king- 
dom, which  like  the  grain  of  mustard  seed  is  become 
a tree  which  gives  shade  to  the  world,  and  in  the 
branches  of  which  the  birds  have  their  nests,  Jesus 
comprehended,  desired  and  founded.  By  the  side  of 
the  false,  cold,  impossible  idea  of  a pompous  advent, 
he  conceived  the  real  city  of  God,  the  true  “ palin- 
genesis,’’ the  Sermon  upon  the  Mount,  the  apotlieosia 
of  the  weak,  the  love  of  the  people,  the  taste  for  pov- 
erty, the  renovation  of  all  that  is  humble,  true  and 
simple.  This  renovation  he  has  sketched  like  an  in 
comparable  artist,  by  touches  which  will  endure  for 
ever.  Each  of  us  owes  him  the  best  that  is  in  him* 
self.  Pardon  him  his  expectation  of  an  empty  apoca 
ypse,  of  a coming  in  great  triumph  upon  the  cloud 
of  heaven.  Perhaps  this  was  the  error  of  others  rather 
than  his  own,  and  if  it  is  true  that  he  shared  in  the 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


249 


illusiDTi  of  all,  what  matters  it,  since  his  dream  reu 
dered  him  strong  against  death,  and  sustained  him  in 
a struggle  to  which  without  this  perhaps  he  had  been 
unequal  ? 

We  must  therefore  give  more  than  one  sense  to  tlie 
divine  city  conceived  by  Jesus.  , If  his  whole  thought 
had  been  that  the  end  of  time  was  at  hand,  and  pre- 
paration must  be  made  theref  >r,  he  would  not  have 
surpassed  John  the  Baptist.  To  renounce  a world 
near  its  end,  to  detach  self  little  by  little  from  the 
present  life,  to  aspire  to  the  reign  which  was  at  hand ; 
such  would  have  been  the  last  word  of  his  preaching. 
The  teaching  of  Jesus  had  always  a much  wider  scope*. 
Fie  undertook  to  create  a new  condition  of  humanity 
and  not  merely  to  prepare  for  the  end  of  that 
which  existed.  Elias  or  Jeremiah  reappearing  to 
make  men  ready  for  tlie  supreme  crises,  would  not 
have  preached  as  he  did.  This  is  so  true,  that  the 
morality  claimed  for  the  last  days,  is  found  to  be  the 
eternal  morality,  that  which  has  saved  humanity.  Je- 
sus Idmself,  in  many  cases,  adopts  methods  of  speak* 
ing  W'hich  do  not  enter  into  the  apocalyptic  theory. 
He  often  declares  that  the  kingdom  of  God  has  alrea- 
dy commenced,  that  every  man  carries  it  in  himself, 
and  may,  if  he  be  worthy,  enjoy  it ; that  each  creates 
this  kingdom  quietly  by  the  true  conversion  of  the 
heai-t.*-  The  kingdom  of  God  is  then  only  the  good,f 
an  order  of  things  better  than  that  which  exists,  the 
eign  of  justice,  which  the  faithful,  each  according  to 
Ms  ability,  should  aid  to  found;  or  again  the  liberty 
of  the  soul,  something  analogous  to  the  Buddhist  de* 

• Matt  , VI,  10,  33;  Mark,  xii,  34;  Luke,  xi,  2;  xii,  31;  xvii,  20,  il  seqq. 
t Sm  eapecially  Mark,  xn,  34. 


250 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


liverance,”  tlie  fruit  of  freedom.  These  truths,  tvlnch 
to  us  are  purely  abstract,  were  to  Jesus  living  reali- 
ties. All  things  in  his  mind  are  concrete  and  substau 
tive.  Jesus  is  the  man  who  has  had  strongest  faith 
in  the  reality  of  the  ideal. 

In  accepting  the  Utopias  of  liis  time  and  of  hia 
race,  Jesus  thus  made  them  lofty  truths,  thanks  to 
fruitful  misunderstandings.  His  kingdom  of  God  was 
doubtless  the  approaching  apocalypse,  which  was  to 
be  unfolded  in  the  heavens.  But  still  it  was,  and  pro 
bably  above  all,  the  kingdom  of  the  soul  created  by 
the  liberty  and  the  filial  feeling  which  the  virtuous 
man  experiences  upon  tlie  bosom  of  his  Father.  It 
was  pure  religion,  with  no  rites,  no  temple,  no  priests; 
it  was  the  moial  judgment  of  the  world,  awarded  to 
the  conscience  of  the  righteous  and  to  the  arms  of  the 
people.  This  is  what  v/as  made  to  live,  this  is  what 
has  lived.  When,  at  the  end  of  a century  of  vain 
expectation,  the  materialistic  hope  of  a speedy 
destruction  of  the  world  was  exhausted,  the  real  king- 
dom of  God  was  made  clear.  Convenient  explanations 
cast  a veil  upon  the  material  kingdom,  which  will  not 
come.  The  Revelations  of  John,  the  first  canonical 
book  of  the  Hew  Testament,*  being  too  explicitly  in 
fected  with  the  idea  of  an  immediate  catastrophe,  is 
degraded  to  a secondary  position,  considered  unintel- 
ligible, tortured  in  a thousand  ways,  and  almost  ro 
jected.  At  least,  its  fulfilment  is  adjourned  to  a^ 
indefinite  future.  A few  poor  belated  ones  who  stil 
preserved,  in  the  midst  of  the  reactionary  epoch,  th 
expectations  of  the  first  disciples,  became  heretics 
(Ebionites,  Millenarians,)  lost  in  the  lower  depths  of 

* Justin,  Dial,  cum  Tryph.,  81. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


251 


Christianity,  Humanity  had  passed  to  another  king- 
dom of  God.  The  portion  of  truth  contained  in  the 
idea  of  Jesus  had  triumphed  over  the  chimera  which 
obscured  it. 

Let  us  not,  however,  scorn  this  chimera,  which  was 
the  rough  rind  of  the  sacred  bulb  on  which  we  live. 
This  fantastic  kingdom  of  heaven,  this  endless  pursuit 
of  a city  of  God,  which  has  always  preoccupied 
Christianity  in  its  long  career,  has  been  the  origin 
of  that  grand  instinct  of  the  future  which  has  ani- 
mated all  reformers,  obstinate  disciples  of  the  Apoca- 
lypse, from  Joachim  of  Florus  to  the  Protestant  sec- 
taries of  our  day.  This  powerless  effort  to  found  a 
perfect  society  has  been  the  source  of  that  extraordin- 
ary intensity  which  has  always  made  tlie  true  Chris- 
tian an  athlete  in  struggling  against  the  present.  The 
idea  of  the  “kingdom  of  God”  and  the  Apocalypse, 
which  is  the  complete  image  of  it,  are  thus,  in  one 
sense,  the  most  elevated  and  poetic  expressions  of  hu- 
man progress.  Certainly  there  were  also  great  errors 
to  grow  out  of  it.  Hanging,  a continual  menace  over 
humanity,  the  end  of  the  world,  by  the  periodical  ter- 
rors which  it  caused  for  centuries,  retarded  to  a great 
extent  all  profane  development.  Society  being  no 
longer  sure  of  its  existence,  contracted  from  this  un^ 
certainty  a sort  of  tremor,  and  those  habits  of  base  hu- 
mility, which  render  the  middle  ages  so  inferior  to  an 
tiquity  and  to  modern  times.*  A deep  change  was, 
moreover,  wrought  in  the  manner  of  picturing  the 
coming  of  Christ.  The  first  time  that  the  announce 
ment  of  the  destruction  of  the  planet  was- made  to  hu 

♦ See,  ft>r  examples,  the  prologue  of  Gregory  of  Tours  to  his  Histoire  ecclesuu 
Hque  des  Frarics,  and  the  numerous  acts  of  the  first  half  of  the  middle  ages,  com- 
mencing with  the  formula,  “ At  the  approach  of  the  night  of  the  world. 


252 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


manity,  like  tlie  infant  who  welcomes  death  with  a 
smile,  it  experienced  a paroxysm  of  joy  such  as  it  had 
never  felt  before.  As  it  grew  older,  the  world  became 
attached  to  life.  The  day  of  grace,  so  long  awaited  by 
tlie  pure  souls  of  Galilee,  became  to  these  iron  ages  a 
jay  of  wrath  : Dies  irce^  dies  ilia  ! But,  in  the  heart 
- >f  barbarism  even,  the  idea  of  the  kingdom  of  God 
was  still  fruitful.  In  spite  of  the  feudal  church,  of 
sects,  and  of  religious  orders,  holy  personages  contin- 
ued to  protest,  in  the  name  of  the  Gospel,  against  the 
iniquity  of  the  world.  In  our  days  even,  troubled 
days,  in  which  Jesus  has  no  more  authentic  followers 
than  those  who  seem  to  repudiate  him,  the  dreams  of 
the  ideal  organization  of  society,  which  have  so  close 
analogy  with  the  aspirations  of  tlie  primitive  Christian 
sects,  are  in  one  sense  only  the  expansion  of  the  same 
idea,  one  of  the  branches  of  that  immense  tree  in  which 
germinates  every  thought  of  the  future,  and  of  which 
the  kingdom  of  God”  will  be  the  trunk  and  root  for- 
ever. All  the  social  revolutions  of  humanity  will  be 
engrafted  upon  this  stock  But  infected  with  a gross 
materialism,  aspiring  to  the  impossible — to  found  uni- 
versal happiness  upon  political  and  economic  measures, 
the  ‘‘  socialistic”  attempts  of  our  time  will  yet  be  un- 
fruitful, until  they  take  for  their  rule  the  true  spirit  of 
Jesus,  absolute  idealism,  this  principle  that  in  order  to 
possess  the  earth  it  is  necessary  to  renounce  it. 

The  phrase  “ kingdom  of  God”  expresses,  on  ano 
her  hand,  with  rare  felicity,  the  need  which  the  soul 
xperiences  of  a supplementary  destiny,  a compensa- 
tion for  the  present  life.  Those  who  do  not  bring 
themselves  to  conceive  man  as  composed  of  two  sub 
Btances,  and  who  believe  the  deistical  dogma  of  tne 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


253 


Immortality  of  tlie  soul  in  contradiction  with  physiolo 
gy,  love  to  rest  upon  the  hope  of  a final  reparation, 
which  under  some  unknown  form  shall  satisfy  the  crav 
ings  of  the  human  heart.  Who  knows  whether  tlio 
final  term  of  progress,  in  tlie  millions  of  ages,  will  not 
bring  back  the  absolute  consciousness  of  the  universe, 
and  in  that  consciousness  the  awakening  of  all  who 
have  lived.  A sleep  of  a million  of  years  is  no  longer 
than  a sleep  of  an  hour.  St.  Paul,  on  this  hypothesis, 
would  still  be  right  in  saying : In  iotu  OGuli 
It  is  certain  that  moral  and  virtuous  humanity  will 
have  its  reward,  that  one  day  the  opinion  of  the  noble 
poor  man  will  judge  tlie  world,  and  that  on  that  day 
the  ideal  form  of  Jesus  will  be  the  confusion  of  the 
frivolous  man  who  has  not  believed  in  virtue,  and  of 
the  selfish  man  who  has  not  learned  to  attain  to  it. 
The  favorite  expression  of  Jesus  remains,  therefore, 
full  of  eternal  beauty.  A sort  of  grand  divii  ation 
seems  to  have  held  him  in  a sublime  vagueness,  sim 
ultaneously  embracing  many  orders  cf  truths. 

• I Cor.,  XT,  62. 


264 


ORIGINS  OP  CHRISTIANITY. 


CHAPTEE  XVIII. 

THB  IK  STITUTI  ON  S OF  JESUS. 

Wh'AT  strongly  proves,  however,  that  Jesus  waa 
never  entirely  absorbed  in  his  apocalyptic  ideas,  is 
that  at  the  very  time  that  he  was  most  preoccupied 
with  them,  he  is  laying  with  wonderful  certainty  of 
view  the  foundations  of  a church  destined  to  endure. 
It  is  hardly  possible  to  doubt  that  he  himself  had  cho- 
sen among  his  disciples  those  who  were  called  by  pre- 
eminence the  apostles  ’’  or  the  twelve,”  since  on 
the  morning  following  his  death,  we  find  them  forming 
a body,  and  filling  by  election  the  vacancies  which 
had  been  produced  among  them.*  They  were  the  two 
sons  of  Jonas,  the  two  sons  of  Zebedee,  James,  son  of 
Cleophas,  Philip,  Nathaniel  bar-Tolmai,  Thomas,  Levi, 
son  of  Alpheus  or  Matthew,  Simon  the  Canaanite, 
Thaddeus  or  Lebbeus,  and  Judas  of  Kerioth.f  It  ia 
piobable  that  the  idea  of  the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel 
had  some  relation  to  the  choice  of  this  number.ij:  Tlio 

^‘twelve,”  at  all  events,  formed  a group  of  privileged 

♦ AdSy  1, 15  eeqq.;  I Cor.,  xv,  5;  Ual.  i,  10. 

f Matt. , X,  2 seqq. ; Mark,  iii,  16  «*eqq. ; Luke,  vi,  14  eeqq. ; 4cte, . 18,  Pafias,  ii 
Eusebius,  Hist,  ecct , III,  39. 

X Matt.,  XIX,  28;  Luke,  xxii,  30. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


265 


disciples,  in  which  Peter  preserved  his  entirely  frater 
nal  pre-eminence,*  and  to  whom  Jesus  confided  the 
charge  of  propagating  his  work.  Nothing  indicates 
the  sacerdotal  college  regularly  organized  ; the  lists  of 
the  “ twelve  ” which  have  been  preserved  to  us  preseu 
many  uncertainties  and  contradictions;  two  or  thro 
of  those  who  figure  in  them  are  not  otherwise  heara 
of.  Two  at  least,  Peter  and  Philip,f  were  married, 
and  had  children. 

Jesus  evidently  imparted  secrets  to  tlie  twelve 
which  he  prohibited  them  from  communicating  toall.if 
It  seems  at  times  tliat  his  plan  was  to  envelope  his 
person  in  some  mystery,  to  postpone  the  great  evi- 
dences until  after  his  death,  to  reveal  himself  com- 
pletely only  to  his  disciples,  confiding  to  them  the 
charge  of  demonstrating  him  afterwards  to  the  world,  j 
“What  I tell  you  in  darkness,  that  speak  ye  in  light; 
and  what  ye  hear  in  the  ear,  that  preach  ye  upon  the 
housetops.”  This  spared  him  too  precise  declarations, 
and  created  a species  of  medium  between  public  opin- 
ion and  himself.  There  is  no  doubt  that  he  reserved 
certain  teachings  for  the  apostles,  and  that  he  explained 
to  them  many  parables,  the  meaning  of  which  he  left 
indefinite  to  the  multitude.§  An  enigmatical  style 
and  a little  oddity  in  the  connection  of  ideas  were  in 
vogue  in  the  teaching  of  the  doctors,  as  is  seen  by  the 
sayings  of  the  Pirhe  Ahoth,  Jesus  explained  to  hi 
intimates  wliat  was  strange  in  his  apothegms  or  bia 
apologues,  and  to  them  disengaged  his  teachings  from 

♦ Ads,  1, 15;  II,  14;  v 2-3;  29;  viii,  19;  xv,  7;  Gal.,  1, 18. 
t For  Peter,  see  above,  p.  i66;  for  Philip,  see  Papias,  Polycrates,  and  Clemen 
Alexandria,  cited  by  Eusebius.  Hist.  eccl. , III,  30,  31,  39;  V,  24. 
t Matt.,  XVI,  20;  xvii,  9;  Mark,  viii,  30;  ix,  8. 

J Matt.,  X,  Mark,  iv,  21  seqq.;  Luke,  viii,  17;  xii,  2seqq. ; John,  x.v,  22 
k Matt.,  xiii,  10  seqq.;  34  seqq.;  Mark,  ir,  10  seqq.;  33  seqq.;  Luke, Tin, 9 
•eqq.;  xii,4 


256 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


the  superfluity  of  comparisons  which  at  times  obscured 
them.*  Many  of  these  explanations  appear  to  have 
been  carefully  preserved.f 
During  the  lifetime  of  Jesus,  the  apostles  preached, 
but  without  ever  separating  very  much  from  him, 
Dieir  preaching,  moreover,  was  limited  to  the  an- 
nouncement of  the  coming  of  the  kingdom  of  God.J 
They  went  from  city  to  city,  receiving  hospitality,  or 
rather  taking  it  of  themselves  according  to  the  custom. 
The  guest  in  the  East  has  great  authority ; he  is  supe- 
rior to  the  master  of  the  house  ; the  latter  has  in  him 
the  fullest  confidence.  This  preaching  of  the  fire-side 
is  excellent  for  the  propagation  of  new  doctrines.  ..The 
hidden  treasure  is  communicated ; thus  one  pays  for 
what  he  receives ; politeness  and  good  relations  aiding, 
the  household  is  touched  and  converted.  Take  away 
oriental  hospitality,  and  the  propagation  of  Christiani- 
ty would  be  impossible  to  explain.  Jesus,  who  held 
strongly  to  the  good  old  customs,  commanded  his  dis- 
ciples to  have  no  scruple  about  taking  advantage  of 
this  ancient  public  right,  even  then  probably  abolished 
in  the  great  towns  where  there  were  inns.§  ‘^The  la* 
borer,”  said  he,  ‘‘h  worthy  of  his  hire.”  Once  in- 
stalled in  any  man’s  house,  they  were  to  remain  there, 
eating  and  drinking  what  was  offered  them,  so  long  as 
their  mission  lasted. 

Jesus  desired  that,  according  to  his  example,  the 
laessengers  of  the  good  tidings  should  render  their 
^reaching  lovely  by  polite  and  kindly  manners.  H 

♦ Matt , XVI,  6 seqq.;  Mark,  vii, 

+ Matt.,  XIII,  18  seqq.;  Mark,  vii,  14  seqq. 
j Luke,  IX,  6.  j Luke,  x,  11. 

^ The  Greek  word  has  passed  into  all  the  Semitic  languages  of 

Ibc  East  to  designate  an  inn. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


257 


wished  that  on  entering  a liouse  they  shoiiid  give  the 
tclam  or  wish  of  joy.  Some  hesitated,  tlie  selam  being 
then  as  now  in  the  East,  a sign  of  religious  communion* 
which  is  not  risked  with  persons  of  doubtful  faith, 
Fear  nothing,’’  said  Jesus ; if  nobody  in  the  house 
h worthy  of  your  selam^  it  will  turn  to  you  again.’’^ 
Sometimes,  indeed,  the  apostles  of  the  kingdom  of 
God  were  badly  received,  and  came  to  complain  to 
Jesus,  who  ordinarily  sought  to  calm  them.  Some, 
persuaded  of  the  omnipotence  of  the  master,  were  dis- 
pleased at  this  forbearance.  The  sous  of  Zebedee 
wished  that  he  should  call  fire  from  heaven  upon  the 
inhospitable  cities.f  Jesus  received  their  importuni- 
ties with  his  delicate  irony,  and  stopped  them  with 
tliis:  ‘‘lam  not  come  to  destroy  souls,  but  to  save 
them.” 

He  sought  in  every  way  to  establish  the  principle 
that  his  apostles  were  himself It  was  believed  that 
he  had  communicated  to  them  his  marvellous  virtues. 
They  cast  out  devils,  prophesied,  and  formed  a school 
of  renowned  exorcists, | although  certain  cases  were 
beyond  their  power.§  They  performed  cures  also, 
sometimes  by  the  imposition  of  hands,  sometimes  by 
anointing  with  oil,^['  one  of  the  fundamental  processes 
of  oriental  medicine.  In  short,  like  the  psylli,  they 
could  handle  serpents  and  drink  deadly  beverages  with 
impunity.**  As  we  depart  from  Jesus,  this  theurgy 
becomes  more  and  more  offensive.  But  there  ^s  no 
doubt  that  it  was  a common  practice  in  the  primitive 

♦ Matt. , X,  11  seqq. ; Mark,  vi,  10  seqq. ; Luke,  x,  5 seqq.  Comp.  II  Jolm,  10-U 

iLuke,  IX,  52  seqq. 

Matt.,  X,  40-42;  xxv,  36  seqq.;  Mark,  ix,  40;  Luke,  x,  16;  John,  xni.  90. 
Matt  , VII,  22;  X,  1;  Mark,  iii,  15;  vr,  13;  Luke,  x,  lY. 

Matt  , XVII,  18-19.  ^ Mark,  vi,  13  xvi,  18;  James,  14. 

••  Mark,  xvi,  18’  Luke,  x 19. 


258 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


church,  and  that  it  figured  as  of  highest  importance  in 
the  attention  of  cotemporaries.*  Charlatans,  as  ordi 
narily  happens,  took  advantage  of  this  movement  of 
popular  credulity.  During  the  lifetime  of  Jesus,  manj 
who  were  not  his  disciples,  cast  out  devils  in  his  name. 
The  true  disciples  were  very  much  displeased  at  this 
and  sought  to  prevent  them.  Jesus,  who  saw  in  it  an 
acknowledgement  of  his  renown,  was  not  very  severe 
towards  them.f  We  must  observe,  however,  that  these 
powers  had  to  a certain  extent  become  a profession. 
Carrying  to  the  extreme  the  logic  of  the  absurd,  cer- 
tain persons  cast  out  devils  by  Beelzebub,:]:  the  prince 
of  devils.  It  was  imagined  that  this  sovereign  of  in- 
fernal legions  must  have  full  power  over  his  subordi- 
nates, and  that  by  working  through  him,  they  were 
sure  of  expelling  the  intruding  spirit.  | Some  sought 
even  to  buy  of  the  disciples  of  Jesus  the  secret  of  the 
miraculous  powers  which  had  been  conferred  upon 
them.§ 

The  germ  of  a church  thenceforth  began  to  appear. 
This  fruitful  idea  of  the  power  of  men  united  {ecclesici) 
seems  really  an  idea  of  Jesus.  Full  of  his  purely 
idealistic  doctrine,  that  what  produces  the  presence 
of  souls,  is  communion  through  love,  he  declared  that 
whenever  a few  should  assemble  in  his  name,  he 
would  be  there  in  the  midst  of  them.  He  confides  to 
the  church  the  right  to  bind  or  to  loose  (that  is  to  say 
to  render  certain  things  lawful  or  unlawful),  to  remit 
sins,  to  reprimand,  to  warn  with  authority,  to  pray 
with  the  certainty  of  being  heard.^"  It  is  possible  that 

♦ Mark,  xvi,  20.  f Mark,  ix,  37-38;  Luke,  ix,  49-50. 

(Ancient  god  of  the  Philistines,  transformed  by  the  Jews  into  a demon. 
Matt.,  xn,  24  seqq.  § Acte,  viii,  18  seqq. 

Matt.,  XVIII,  17  seqq.;  John,  xx,  23. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


259 


many  of  these  sayings  have  been  attributed  to  the 
master,  in  order  to  give  a basis  to  the  collective  aiv 
thority  by  which  it  was  afterwards  sought  to  replace 
his  own.  At  any  rate,  it  was  not  until  after  his  death 
tliat  individual  churches  were  constituted  by  them 
and  yet  this  first  constitution  was  made  exactly  upoa 
the  model  of  the  synagogues.  Many  persons  who  had 
loved  Jesus  very  much  and  founded  great  hopes  upon 
him,  like  Joseph  of  Arimathea,  Lazarus,  Mary  Magda- 
lene and  Nicodernus,  did  not,  it  seems,  enter  these 
churches,  and  remained  content  with  the  tender  or  res- 
pectful remembrance  which  they  had  preserved  of  him. 

Moreover,  there  is  no  trace,  in  the  teaching  of  Je- 
sus, of  an  applied  morality  or  a canonical  law,  be  it 
ever  so  ill-defined.  Only  once,  in  regard  to  marriage, 
he  defines  his  position  with  clearness  and  defends  di- 
vorce.* No  more  theology,  no  symbolism.  Nothing 
but  a few  ideas  upon  the  Father,  tlie  Son,  and  the 
Spirit, f whence  will  afterwards  be  drawn  the  Trinity 
and  the  Incarnation,  but  which  were  still  in  the  state 
of  indeterminate  images.  The  last  books  of  the  Jew- 
ish canon  already  recognized  the  Holy  Spirit,  a spe- 
cies of  divine  hypostasis,  sometimes  identified  with 
Wisdom  or  the  Word.:]:  Jesus  insisted  upon  this 

point,!  and  announced  to  his  disciples  a baptism  by 
fire  and  the  Holy  Ghost, § far  preferable  to  that  of 
John,  a baptism  which  they  believed  that  they  re 
ceived  upon  a certain  day,  after  the  death  of  Jesus,  an 
der  the  f )rm  of  a mighty  wind  and  of  tongues  of  fire.^ 


♦ Matt.,  XIX,  3 seqq. 

J Matt.,  XVIII,  19.  Comp.  Matt.,  iii,  16-17;  John,  xr,  26. 

Sap.,  I,  7;  VII,  7;  ix,  17;  xii,  1;  Eccl.,  i,  9;  xv,  5;  xxiv,  27;  xxxix;  8;  JuOm 
fWl , 17. 

iMatt.,  X,  20;  Luke,  xii,  42;  xxiv,  49;  John,  xiv,  26;  xv,  26. 

Matt.,  Ill,  11;  Mark,  r,  8;  Luke,iii.l6;  John,  i,  26;  ill,  6;  1.5,8;  X 47 

Acts,  II,  1-4;  XI,  15;  xix.  6.  Cf.  John,  vii,  33. 


260 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


The  Holy'^Spirit  thus  sent  by  the  Father  will  teach 
them  every  truth,  and  bear  witness  to  those  which  Je- 
sus himself  has  promulgated.'^  Jesus,  to  designate 
this  Spirit,  made  use  of  the  word  Peraklit  which  the 
fcyro-Ohaldaic  had  borrowed  from  the  Greek  (<7ra|axX>]To^), 
ind  which  appears  to  have  had  in  his  mind  the  mean- 
ng  of  advocate,f  comforter, and  sometimes  that  of 
interpreter  of  celestial  truths,  of  a teacher  charged 
with  revealing  to  men  mysteries  yet  concealed, | He 

himself  is  regarded  by  his  disciples  as  a 'peraklit^ 
and  the  Spirit  which  was  to  come  after  diis  death  was 
purely  to  replace  him.  This  was  an  application  of  the 
process  which  Jewish  theology  and  Christian  theology 
were  to  pursue  for  centuries,  and  which  was  to  pro- 
duce a whole  series  of  divine  intercessors,  the  Meta- 
throne^  the  Synadelphos  or  Sandalphon^  and  all  the 
personifications  of  the  Cabbala.  In  Judaism,  how- 
ever, these  creations  were  to  rest  upon  individual  and 
free  speculations,  while  in  Christianity,  from  the  fourth 
century,  they  were  to  form  the  essence  of  the  univer- 
sal orthodoxy  and  dogma. 

It  is  useless  to  remark  how  entirely  foreign  was  the 
idea  of  a religious  book,  containing  a code  and  arti- 
cles of  faith,  to  the  thought  of  Jesus  He  not  only 
did  not  write,  but  it  was  contrary  to  the  spirit  of  the 
rising  sect  to  produce  sacred  books.  They  believed 
themselves  upon  the  eve  of  the  grand  final  catastro- 
phe. The  Messiah  came  to  put  the  seal  upon  the  Law 
and  the  prophets,  not  to  promulgate  new  texts.  Thus, 

♦ John,  XV,  26;  xvi,  18. 

t Toi>erafcZif  they  oppose  “ the  accuser.” 

iJohn,  XIV,  16;  I John,  ii,  1. 

John,  XIV,  26;  XV,  26;  xvi,  7 seqq.  Comp.  Philo,  De  Mvaidi  opffido  6. 

John,  XIV,  16  Comp,  the  epistle  previously  cited,  h c. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


261 


with  the  exception  of  the  Apocalypse,  which  may 
be  called  the  only  revealed  book  of  infant  Christian- 
ity, all  the  other  writings  of  the  apostolic  age  are  iiici 
dental  productions,  having  no  pretension  whatever  to 
furnish  a complete  system  of  doctrine.  The  Gospels 
had  at  first  an  altogether  private  character,  and  an 
authority  far  inferior  to  that  of  tradition.* 

Ne\  ertheless,  had  not  the  sect  some  sacrament,  some 
rite,  some  rallying  sign  ? It  had  one,  which  all  tradi 
tions  carry  back  to  Jesus.  One  of  the  favorite  ideas 
of  the  master  is  that  he  was  the  new  bread,  a bread 
superior  to  manna  and  upon  which  humanity  was  to 
live.  This  idea,  the  germ  of  the  Eucharist,  sometimes 
assumed  singularly  concrete  forms  in  his  teachings. 
Once  especially  he  allowed  himself,  in  the  synagogue 
of  Capernaum,  to  take  a bold  step,  which  cost  him 
many  of  his  disciples.  ‘^Yerily,  verily,  I say  unto 
you,  not  Moses  but  my  Father  has  given  you  the  bread 
of  heaven. And  he  added  : “ I am  the  bread  of 
life ; he  that  cometh  to  me  shall  never  hunger,  and  he 
that  believeth  on  me  shall  never  thirst.”:]:  This  speech 
excited  loud  murmurs.  “ What  means  he,  said  they, 
by  these  words:  I am  the  bread  of  life?  Is  not  this 
Jesus  the  son  of  Joseph,  whose  father  and  mother  we 
know?  how  is  it  then  that  he  saith,  I come  down  from 
heaven?”  But  Jesus  continued  still  more  forcibly: 

I am  the  bread  of  life.  Tour  fathers  did  eat  manna 
in  the  wilderness  and  are  dead  ; this  is  the  bread 
wliich  cometh  down  from  heaven,  that  a man  may 
eat  thereof  and  not  die.  I am  the  living  bread  ; if  any 

• Papias,  in  Eusebius,  Hist,  eccl.y  III,  39. 

f John,  VI,  32  seqq. 

I We  find  an  analogous  expression,  producing  a like  misunderstanamg,  Ir 
Jolm,iy,10seqq. 


262 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


man  eat  of  this  bread,  he  shall  live  forever;  and  the 
bread  which  I will  give  is  my  flesh,  which  I will  give 
for  tlie  life  of  the  world.”*  The  scandal  was  now  at 
itshight:  How  can  this  man  give  us  his  flesh  to 

eatl”  Jesus  rising  still  higher  replies:  ‘‘  Verily,  verily 
I say  unto  you,  Except  ye  eat  the  flesh  of  the  Son  of 
man,  and  drink  his  blood,  ye  have  no  life  in  you 
Whoso  eateth  my  flesh,  and  drinketh  my  blood,  hath 
eternal  life  ; and  I will  raise  him  up  at  the  last  day. 
For  my  flesh  is  meat  indeed,  and  my  blood  is  drink 
indeed.  He  that  eateth  my  flesh,  and  drinketh  my 
blood,  dwelleth  in  me,  and  I in  him.  As  the  living 
Fathei  hath  sent  me,  and  I live  by  the  Father : so  he 
that  eateth  me,  even  he  shall  live  by  me.  This  is  that 
bread  which  came  down  from  heaven  : not  as  your  fa- 
thers did  eat  manna,  and  are  dead : he  that  eateth  of 
this  bread  shall  live  forever.”  Such  persistency  in 
paradox  shocked  many  disciples  who  ceased  to  follow 
him.  Jesus  did  not  retract ; he  merely  added : ‘‘  It  is 
the  spirit  that  quickenetli  ; the  flesh  profiteth  no- 
thing; the  words  that  I speak  unto  you  are  spirit  and 
life.”  The  twelve  remained  faithful,  despite  this 
strange  preaching.  It  was  to  Cephas  in  particular  an 
occasion  for  showing  absolute  devotion  and  proclaim- 
ing  again : “ Thou  art  the  Christ,  the  son  of  God.” 

It  is  probable  that  thenceforward,  in  the  ordinary 
meals  of  the  sect,  some  usage  was  established  in  con 
sonance  with  the  discourse  so  ill-received  by  the  peo- 
ple of  Capernaum.  But  the  apostolic  traditions  on 
this  subject  are  very  inconsistent  and  probably  de* 
signedly  incomplete.  The  synoptic  gospels  indicate 

♦ All  these  discourses  hear  too  strongly  the  mark  of  John’s  peculiar  style,  fof 
bs  to  suppose  them  exact.  The  anecdote  related  in  the  sixth  chapter  of  the  Ihurtir 
Qospel  cannot,  neyertheless,  he  deyoid  of  historical  reality. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


263 


an  exclusively  sacramental  act  serving  as  the  basiti  of 
a mysterious  rite,  and  they  place  its  occurrence  at  the 
last  Supper.  John,  who  has  particularly  preserved  to 
us  the  incident  of  the  synagogue  of  Capernaum, 
8[)eaks  of  no  such  act,  although  he  recounts  the  last 
Su}>per  very  much  at  length.  Moreover,  we  see  Jo* 
BUS  recognized  at  the  breaking  of  bread,*  as  if  this  act 
were  to  those  who  followed  him,  that  most  character- 
istic of  his  person.  When  he  was  dead,  he  appeared 
to  the  pious  recollections  of  his  disciples  as  presiding 
over  a mystic  banquet,  holding  the  bread,  blessing  it, 
and  breaking  it  and  presenting  it  to  the  guests.f  It 
is  probable  that  this  was  one  of  his  habits,  and  that  at 
such  moments  he  was  peculiarly  tender  and  lovely.  A 
material  circumstance,  the  presence  of  fish  upon  the  ta- 
ble (a  striking  indication  which  proves  that  the  rite  took 
its  origin  upon  the  shore  of  Lake  Tiberias;];),  was  itself 
almost  sacramental,  and  became  a necessary  part  of 
the  images  which  were  formed  of  the  sacred  festival.J 
Meals  had  become  in  the  infant  community  the 
most  charming  occasions.  At  such  times  they  met 
one  another ; the  master  spoke  to  each,  and  entered  in- 
to a conversation  full  of  cheer  and  charm.  Jesus 
loved  these  hours  and  took  pleasure  in  seeing  his  spir- 
itual family  thus  grouped  around  him.§  Participation 
in  the  same  bread  was  considered  a sort  of  commun 

♦ Luke,  XXIV,  30,  36.  t Luke,  1.  c John,  xxi,  13. 

J Comp.  Matt.,  VII,  10;  xiv,  17  seqq. ; xv,  34  seqq. ; Mark,  vi,  38  seqq.,  Like, 
i\,  13  seqq.;  xi,  11;  xxiv,42;  John,  vi,  9 seqq  ; xxi,  9 seqq.  The  basin  of  Lake 
Tiberias  is  the  only  place  in  Palestine  where  fish  form  any  considerable  part  of 
he  food  of  the  inhabitants. 

U John,  XXI,  13;  Luke,  xxiv,  42-43.  Compare  the  oldest  representations  of  the 
Supper  copied  or  restored  by  M.  de  Rossi  in  his  dissertation  upon  the  IX0T2 
\Spidlegium  Solesmmse  de  dom  Pitra,  t.  III,p.  568  seqq. ) The  meaning  of  the  an. 
agram  which  constitutes  the  word  IX©  T 2 was  probably  ccmbined  with  a 
more  ancient  tradition  in  regard  to  the  part  acted  by  fish  in  the  evangelical  re 
paate.  ^ Luke,  xxii,  15. 


264 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


ion,  a reciprocal  bond.  The  master  used  extremelf 
energetic  terms  in  this  respect,  which  were  at  a latei 
day  understood  with  unbridled  literalness.  Tesus  is 
at  once  very  idealistic  in  his  conceptions,  and  very 
materialistic  in  his  expressions.  Wishing  to  conve^ 
this  thought  that  the  believer  lives  only  through  him 
that  altogether  (body,  blood  and  soul)  he  was  the  life 
of  the  true  believer,  he  said  to  liis  disciples:  am 

your  sustenance,”  a phrase  which,  turned  into  the  fig- 
urative style,  became : My  fiesh  is  your  bread,  my 

blood  is  your  drink.”  Then  his  liabitual  modes  of 
speech,  always  strongly  material,  carried  him  still  far- 
ther. At  table,  pointing  to  the  provisions,  he  said  : 

Behold  me  holding  the  bread  : This  is  my  body,” 

holding  the  wine  : This  is  my  blood  all  methods  of 

speech  which  were  equivalent  to : ‘‘‘I  am  your  sus- 
tenance.” 

This  mysterious  rite  obtained  great  importance 
during  the  lifetime  of  Jesus.  It  was  probably  estab- 
lished some  time  before  the  last  journey  to  Jerusalem, 
and  was  the  result  of  general  teaching,  rather  than  of 
any  determinate  act.  After  the  death  of  Jesus  it  be- 
came the  grand  symbol  of  the  Christian  communion,* 
and  it  was  to  the  most  solemn  moment  of  the  life  of  the 
Savior  that  its  establishment  was  referred.  They 
wished. to  see  in  the  consecration  of  the  bread  and 
wine  a farewell  memorial  which  Jesus,  at  the  momen 
of  departing  this  life,  had  left  to  his  disciples.f  Jesus 
himself  was  found  again  in  this  sacrament.  The  alto 
gether  spiritual  idea  of  the  presence  of  souls,  one  ol 
those  most  familiar  to  the  Master,  which  caused  him 
to  say  for  example,  that  he  was  in  person  in  the  midst 


• Ad$y  II,  48, 4€ 


f lOor.y  XI,  20  seqq 


julFE)  OF  JESXJS* 


266- 


of  Ms  disciples*  when  they  were  assembled  in  his  name, 
rendered  this  easily  admissible.  Jesus,  as  we  have  al- 
ready observed, f never  had  any  well  defined  idea  of 
what  constitutes  individuality.  At  the  height  of  ex- 
altation to  which  he  had  arrived,  the  idea  dominated 
ail  else  to  such  a degree,  that  the  body  went  for  no 
thing.  People  are  one  when  they  love  each  other, 
when  they  live  one  for  another ; had  not  he  and  his 
disciples  been  one  His  disciples  adopted  the  same 
language.  Those  who,  for  years,  had  lived  by  him, 
saw  him  always  holding  the  bread,  tlien  the  cup,  ‘^in 
his  sacred  and  venerable  hands,”||  and  offering  himself 
to  them.  It  was  he  whom  they  ate  and  whom  they 
drank ; he  became  the  true  Passover,  the  ancient  one 
having  been  abrogated  by  his  blood.  It  is  impossible 
to  translate  into  our  essentially  determinate  idiom,  in 
which^the  rigorous  distinction  of  the  literal  from  the 
metaphorical  sense  must  always  be  preserved,  manners 
of  style,  the  essential  characteristic  of  which  is  to  give 
to  metaphor,  or  rather  to  the  idea,  complete  reality. 

* Matt.,  xviiiy  flQ.  t See  above,  p.  221.  % John,  xn,  entivo. 

I Canons  of  the  Greek  Masses  and  of  the  Latin  Mass  (very  old). 

It 


266 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

IVOBEA8I&G  FROORESSIOE  OP  ENTflOSlASM  AKD 
E X ALT  at  ion. 

It  is  clear  that  such  a religious  society,  founded 
Hiiely  upon  the  expectation  of  the  kingdom  of  God, 
iiuist  be  in  itself  very  incomplete.  The  first  Christian 
generation  lived  entirely  upon  expectations  and 
dreams.  On  the  eve  of  seeing  the  world  come  to  an 
end,  they  thought  useless  all  things  which  serve  only 
to  continue  the  world.  Property  was  forbidden.* 
Everything  which  attaches  man  to  earth,  everything 
which  turns  him  aside  from  heaven  was  to  be  shunned. 
Although  many  disciples  were  married,  there  was  no 
marrying,  it  seems,  after  entrance  into  the  sect.f 
Celibacy  was  decidedly  preferred  ; even  in  marriage, 
ontinence  was  commended.^  At  one  time,  the  mas- 
ter seems  to  approve  those  who  should  mutilate  tlieni' 
selves  for  the  sake  of  the  kingdom  of  God.f  He  was 
in  this  consistent  with  his  principle:  If  thy  hand  or 

thy  foot  ofifend  thee,  cut  them  oflf,  and  cast  them  from 
thee : it  is  better  for  thee  to  enter  into  life  halt  or 
maimed,  rather  than  having  two  hands  or  two  feet  to 
be  cast  into  everlasting  fire.  And  if  thine  eye  offend 

♦ Luke,  XIV,  33;  Acts,  iv,  32  seqq.;  v,  1-11. 

f Matt.,  XIX,  10  seqq. ; Luke,  xviii , 29  seqq. 

f This  is  the  constant  doctrine  of  I’aul.  Comp.  Rev. , xiv,  4. 

I Matt.,  XIX,  12. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


267 


thee,  pluck  it  out,  and  cast  it  from  thee  : it  is  bettei 
for  thee  to  enter  into  life  with  one  eye,  rather  than 
having  two  eyes  to  be  cast  into  hell-fire.”^  The  cessa- 
tion  of  generation  was  often  considered  the  sign  and 
the  condition  of  the  kingdom  of  God.f 
Never,  we  see,  had  this  primitive  church  formed 
durable  society,  without  the  great  variety  of  germs 
implanted  by  Jesus  in  his  teaching.  It  will  require 
more  than  a century  for  the  true  Christian  church, 
that  which  has  converted  the  world,  to  disengage  it- 
self from  this  little  sect  of  “ latter  day  saints  ” and  to 
become  a frame  applicable  to  all  human  society.  The 
same  thing,  moreover,  took  place  in  Buddhism,  which 
was  at  first  founded  only  for  monks.  The  same  thing 
would  have  happened  in  the  order  of  St.  Francis,  if 
that  order  had  succeeded  in  its  claim  to  become  the 
rule  of  all  human  society.  Born  as  utopias,  succeed- 
ing through  their  very  exaggeration,  the  great  founda 
tions  of  which  we  speak  shall  fill  the  world  only  upon 
condition  of  being  profoundly  modified,  and  of  laying 
aside  their  excesses.  Jesus  did  not  survive  this  first 
period  altogether  monastic,  in  which  men  believe  that 
they  can  with  impunity  attempt  the  impossible.  He 
made  no  concession  to  necessity.  He  preached  boldly 
war  against  nature,  total  rupture  with  kin.  “ Verily 
I say  unto  you,  said  he,  whosoever  shall  leave  house, 
or  parents,  or  brethren,  or  wife,  or  children,  for  the 
kingdom  of  God’s  sake,  shall  receive  an  hundred  fold 
iiore  in  this  world,  and  in  the  world  to  come  life  evei  i 
lasting.’’^ 

• Matt. , XVIII,  8-9.  Cf.  Tal.  of  Bab .,  Nidddh,  13  6. 

f Matt.,  XXII,  30;  Mark,  xn,  25;  Luke,  xx,  36;  Ebionite  Gospel,  called  ol 
Ibe  Egyptians’’  in  Clem,  of  Ales.,iSKrom.,III,  9, 13  and  Clem.  Bom.,  Epist.ll  12 
I Luke,  xYiii,  29-30. 


268 


ORIGINS  OP  CHRISTIANITY. 


The  instructions  which  Jesus  is  said  to  have  given 
to  his  disciples  breathe  the  same  exaltation.*  He,  so 
yielding  to  those  who  were  without,  he  who  is  content 
at  times  with  partial  conversions, f shows  towards  his 
o wn  disciples  extreme  rigor.  He  would  have  no  com- 
promise. It  might  be  called  an  “Order”  constituted 
by  the  most  austere  rules.  Faithful  to  his  idea  that 
the  cares  of  life  trouble  and  debase  man,  Jesus  de 
mands  of  his  associates  an  entire  detachment  from  the 
world,  an  absolute  devotion  to  his  work.  They  were 
to  carry  with  them  neither  money,  nor  provisions  foi 
the  journey,  not  even  a scrip,  nor  a change  of  raiment. 
They  were  to  practice  absolute  poverty,  to  live  upon 
alms  and  hospitality.  “ Freely,  ye  have  received, 
freely  give,”;};  said  he  in  his  beautiful  language.  Ar- 
rested, dragged  before  the  judges,  let  them  prepare  n<? 
defense ; the  celestial  advocate,  the  Peraklit^  will  in- 
spire what  they  should  say.  The  Father  will  send 
them  from  on  high  his  Spirit,  which  shall  become  the 
prime  mover  of  all  their  actions,  the  director  of  their 
thoughts,  their  guide  through  the  world. | Driven 
out  of  a city,  let  them  shake  off"  upon  it  the  dust  from 
their  feet,  warning  the  inhabitants  at  the  same  time, 
ill  order  that  they  may  not  plead  ignorance,  of  the 
proximity  of  the  kingdom  of  God.  “Before  you  shall 
have  gone  over  the  cities  of  Israel,  added  he,  the  Son 
of  man  shall  appear.” 

A strange  ardor  animates  all  these  discourses,  which 
may  be  in  part  the  creation  of  the  enthusiasm  of  the 

• Matt.,  X,  entire;  xxiv,  9;  Mark,  vi,  8 seqq.;  ix,  40;  xiii,  9-18;  Luke,  rt,  I 
>eqq. ; x,  1 seqq. ; xii,  4 seqq. ; xxi,  17;  John,  xv,  18  seqq.,  xvil,  14. 

t Mark,  ix,  38  seqq. 

T Matt.,  X,  8.  Comp  Midrash  lalkout,  Dewteron. , sect.  824. 

I Matt,  X,  20*  John,  xiv,  16  seqq.,  26;  xt,  26;  xti,  7, 13. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


269 


disciples,*  but  which  even  in  this  case  comes  indirect- 
ly from  Jesus,  since  the  enthusiasm  itself  was  his 
work.  Jesus  announces  to  those  who  choose  to  follow 
him  great  persecutions  and  the  hatred  of  all  men.  Ua 
sends  them  as  lambs  into  tlie  midst  of  wolves.  They 
will  be  beaten  in  the  synagogues  and  dragged  to  pris- 

n.  The  brother  shall  be  delivered  up  by  his  brother 
and  the  son  by  his  father.  When  they  are  persecuted 
in  one  country  let  them  flee  to  another.  “ The  disci- 
ple, said  he,  is  not  above  his  master,  nor  the  servant 
above  his  lord.  Fear  not  them  which  kill  the  body, 
but  are  not  able  to  kill  the  soul.  Are  not  two  spar- 
rows sold  for  a farthing?  and  one  of  them  shall  not  fall 
to  the  ground  without  your  Father.  But  the  very  hairs 
of  your  head  are  all  numbered.  Fear  ye  not  therefore^ 
ye  are  of  more  value  than  many  sparrows.^f  Who- 
soever, said  he  again,  shall  confess  me  before  men, 
him  will  I confess  also  before  my  Father;  but  whoso- 
ever shall  be  ashamed  of  me  before  men,  him  will  I 
deny  before  the  angels,  when  I come  in  the  glory  of 
my  Father,  which  is  in  heaven. 

In  these  crises  of  rigor  he  went  to  the  extent  of  sup 
pressing  the  flesh.  His  demands  lost  all  bounds.  De- 
spising the  wholesome  limits  of  human  nature,  he  asks 
that  men  should  exist  only  for  him,  that  they  should  love 
him  alone.  ^‘If  any  man  come  to  me,  and  hate  not 
his  father,  and  mother,  and  wife,  and  children,  and 
brethren,  and  sisters,  yea,  and  his  own  life  also,  he 
cannot  be  my  disciple.”|  Whosoever  forsaketh  not 

• The  idea  expressed  in  Matt.,  x,  38;  xvi,  24;  Mark,  yiii,  34;  Luke,  xiv,27. 
ould  have  been  conceived  only  after  the  death  of  Jesus. 

+ Matt.,  X,  24-31;  Luke,  xii,  4-7 

1 Matt.,  X,  32-33;  Mark,  viii,  38;  Luke,  ix,  26;  xii,  8-9. 

I Luke,  XIV,  26  Luke’s  exaggerated  style  must  be  taken  into  account  heia 


270 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


all  that  he  hath,  he  cannot  be  my  disciple.”^  Soino 
thing  more  than  human,  something  strange  was  then 
mingled  with  his  words  ; it  was  like  a fire  devouring 
life  at  its  root,  and  reducing  everything  to  a frightful 
desert.  The  sad  and  bitter  sentiment  of  disgust  for 
(he  world,  of  utter  abnegation,  which  chaiacterize 
Christian  perfection,  had  for  its  founder,  not  the  deli 
cate  and  joyous  moralist  of  the  earlier  days,  but  the 
sombre  giant  whom  a sublime  presentiment,  as  it 
were,  was  casting  farther  and  farther  forth  from  hu- 
manity. One  would  say  that,  in  these  moments  of 
hostility  to  the  most  natural  necessities  of  the  heart, 
he  had  forgotten  the  pleasures  of  living,  of  loving,  of 
seeing,  and  of  feeling.  Overpassing  all  bounds,  he 
dared  to  say  : If  any  man  will  be  my  disciple,  let 

him  deny  himself  and  follow  me  ! He  that  loveth  fa* 
ther  or  mother  more  than  me  is  not  worthy  of  me ; and 
he  that  loveth  son  or  daughter  more  than  me  is  not 
worthy  of  me.  Whosoever  will  save  his  life  shall  lose 
it ; and  whosoever  will  lose  his  life  for  my  sake  sliall 
gain  it.  For  what  is  a man  profited  if  he  shall  gain 
the  whole  world,  and  lose  his  own  soul  ?”f  Two  anec- 
dotes, of  the  style  which  need  not  be  accepted  as  histo- 
ric, but  which  attempt  to  give  a trait  of  character  by 
exaggerating  it,  paint  clearly  this  defiance  thrown 
down  to  nature.  He  says  to  a man  : Follow  me 

‘ Lord,”  replies  the  man,  ‘‘  suffer  me  first  to  go  an 
r arj  my  father.”  Jesus  responds  : Let  the  dead 

bury  their  dead  : but  go  thou  and  preach  the  king 
dom  of  Grod.”  Another  says  to  him  : Lord,  I will 

foRow  thee;  but  let  me  first  go  and  put  in  order  the 


IJFE  OF  JESUS. 


271 


affairs  of  my  Iiouse.’^  Jesus  replies : ‘‘No  man  having 
put  his  hand  to  the  plough,  and  looking  back,  is  fit  for 
the  kingdom  of  God.”*  An  extraordinary  confidence, 
and  at  times  accents  of  wonderful  sweetness,  overturn 
ng  all  our  ideas,  make  these  exaggerations  accepla^ 
ble.  “ Come  unto  me,  cried  he,  all  ye  that  are  wea 
ry  and  heavy  laden,  and  I will  give  you  rest.  Take 
my  yoke  upon  you  ; learn  of  me  that  I am  weak  and 
lov/ly  in  heart,  and  ye  shall  find  rest  unto  your  souls  * 
for  my  yoke  is  easy  and  my  burden  is  light.”f 

Great  danger  resulted  to  the  future  from  this  exalted 
morality,  expressed  in  a language  of  hyperbole  and 
with  a terrible  energy.  By  virtue  of  detaching  man 
from  earth,  life  was  shattered.  The  Christian  will  be 
praised  for  being  a bad  son  and  a bad  patriot,  if  it  is 
for  Christ  that  he  resists  his  father  and  combats  his  coun- 
try. The  antique  city,  the  republic,  mother  of  all,  the 
State,  the  common  law  of  all,  are  arrayed  in  hostility 
to  the  kingdom  of  God.  A fatal  germ  of  theocracy  is 
introduced  into  the  world. 

Another  consequence  is  dimly  seen  henceforth 
Transported  into  a calm  condition  and  into  the  midst 
of  a society  confident  of  its  own  duration,  this  moral 
ity,  made  for  a critical  moment,  would  seem  impossi 
ble.  The  Gospel  was  thus  destined  to  become  to  Chris 
tians  a utopia,  which  very  few  would  trouble  them 
selves  to  realize.  These  awful  maxims  were,  for  the 
mass,  to  sleep  in  a deep  oblivion,  aided  by  the  clergy 
Jiemselves ; the  gospel  man  will  be  a dangerous  man 
Of  all  human  beings,  the  most  selfish,  the  most  arro 
gant,  the  most  severe,  the  most  attached  to  earth,  % 
Louis  XIY,  for  example,  was  to  find  priests  to  persuaCTe 


• Matt  VIII,  21-22;  Luke,  ix,  69-62 


t Matt.,xi,2t-ao. 


272 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


him,  in  spite  of  the  Gospel,  that  he  was  a Oliristian. 
But  always  aJso  Saints  should  be  found  who  should  ap« 
prehend  literally  the  sublime  paradoxes  of  Jesui. 
Perfection  being  placed  beyond  the  ordinary  condi- 
tions of  society,  the  complete  evangelical  life  being 
possible  only  outside  of  the  world,  the  foundation  of 
asceticism  and  of  the  monastic  state  was  laid.  Chris- 
tian societies  have  two  codes  of  morality,  one  half-he- 
roic for  the  common  man,  the  other  exalted  to  excess 
for  the  perfect  man ; and  the  perfect  man  will  be  the 
monk  subjected  to  rules  which  claim  to  realize  the 
Gospel  ideal.  It  is  certain  that  this  ideal,  were  it  only 
for  the  obligation  of  celibacy  and  poverty,  could  not 
be  a common  law.  The  monk  is  thus,  in  one  sense,  the 
only  true  Christian.  Common  sense  revolts  at  such 
excesses;  according  to  it,  the  impossible  is  the  sign  of 
weakness  and  of  error.  But  common  sense  is  a bad 
judge  when  great  things  are  to  be  dealt  with.  To  ob- 
tain anything  of  humanity,  we  must  ask  more.  The 
immense  moral  progress  due  to  the  Gospel  comes  of 
these  exaggerations.  It  is  by  reason  of  this  that  it  has 
been,  like  stoicism,  but  with  infinitely  broader  scope, 
a living  argument  of  the  divine  forces  which  are  in 
man,  a monument  erected  to  the  power  of  the  will. 

We  can  easily  imagine  that  for  Jesus,  at  the  pe- 
riod to  which  we  have  now  arrived,  everything  other 
than  the  kingdom  of  God  had  absolutely  disappeared 
lie  was,  if  we  may  so  speak,  totally  beyond  nature; 
family,  friendship,  country,  had  no  longer  am 
meaning  to  him.  Doubtless,  he  had  thenceforth  of 
fered  his  life  a sacrifice.  At  times,  we  are  tempted  to 
believe  that,  seeing  in  his  own  death  the  means  of 
founding  his  kingdom,  he  conceived  the  deliberate 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


273 


purpose  of  causing  himself  to  be  killed.*  At  othei 
times  (although  this  idea  Avas  not  established  as  a dog* 
ma  until  somewhat  later),  death  presents  itself  to  him 
as  a sacrifice,  which  will  appease  his  Father  and  save 
mcn.f  A singular  relish  for  persecution  and  torment;}: 
seized  him.  His  blood  appeared  to  him  like  the  water 
of  a second  baptism,  in  which  he  must  be  bathed,  and 
he  seemed  possessed  by  a singular  haste  to  go  forward 
to  this  baptism  which  alone  could  quench  his  thirst.|| 

The  grandeur  of  his  views  of  the  future  was  at  times 
surprising.  He  did  not  conceal  from  himself  the  ter- 
rible storm  which  he  was  exciting  in  the  world.  Sup- 
pose ye,”  said  he,  with  boldness  and  beauty,  that  ‘‘I 
am  come  to  bring  peace  on  earth ; I tell  you,  Hay  ; I 
am  come  to  send  the  sword.  In  a house  of  five  three 
shall  be  against  two  and  two  against  three.  I am  come 
to  set  a man  at  variance  against  his  father,  and  the 
daughter  against  her  mother,  and  the  daughter-in-law 
against  her  mother-in-law.  Henceforth  a man’s  foes 
shall  be  they  of  his  own  household.”§  ‘‘  I am  come  to 
send  fire  on  the  earth;  the  better  if  it  be  already 
kindled?”^  “They  shall  put  you  out  of  the  syna- 
gogues,” said  he  also ; “ yea,  the  time  cometh  that 
whosoever  killeth  you  will  think  that  he  doeth  God 
service.”**  “ If  the  world  hate  you,  ye  know  that  it 
bated  me  before  you.  Eemember  the  word  that  I said 
unto  you.  The  servant  is  not  greater  than  his  lord.  If 
they  have  persecuted  me,  they  will  also  persecut 
you.”ft 

Carried  away  by  this  terrible  tide  of  enthusiaem, 

* Matt,  XVI,  21-23;  xvii,  12, 21  22.  f Mark,  x,  45. 

t Luke,  VI  22  seqq-  ||  Luke,  xii,  60. 

6 Matt,  X,  34-36;  Luke,  xii,  61-63.  Compare  Micah,  vii,  6-6. 

7 Luke,  XII,  49.  See  the  Greek  text  ■ **  Jchn,  xvi,  2.  ff  .fnhn,Ty 

12* 


274 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


commanded  by  the  necessities  of  a preaching  more 
and  more  exalted,  J esus  was  no  longer  free ; he  be- 
longed to  his  mission  and  in  one  sense  to  humanity. 
At  times  one  would  have  said  that  his  reason  was  dis* 
urbed.  He  had  sufferings  and  agitations  ivithin,'^ 
Xhe  grand  vision  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  flashing 
ceaselessly  before  his  eyes,  dizzied  him.  His  disciples 
at  certain  moments  believed  him  mad.f  His  enemies 
declared  him  possessed.:}:  His  temperament,  which 

was  excessively  ardent^,  bore  him  every  instant  beyond 
the  limits  of  human  nature.  His  work  not  being  a 
work  of  reason,  and  mocking  all  the  classifications  of 
the  human  mind,  what  he  demanded  most  imperiously, 
was  faith,”|  This  word  was  that  which  was  often- 
est  repeated  in  the  little  coenaculum.  It  is  the  word 
of  all  popular  movements.  It  is  clear  that  none  of 
these  movements  would  take  place,  if  it  were  neces- 
sary that  he  who  sets  them  on  foot  should  gain  over 
his  disciples  successively  by  good  proofs  logically  de- 
duced. Heflection  leads  only  to  doubt,  and  if  the  au- 
thors of  the  French  Revolution,  for  example,  had  felt 
bound  to  be  previously  convinced  by  meditation  for  a 
sufficient  length  of  time,  all  would  have  arrived  at  old 
age  without  doing  anything.  Jesus,  in  like  manner, 
aimed  less  at  logical  conviction  than  at  enthusiasm. 
Pressing,  imperative,  he  endured  no  opposition ; you 
must  be  converted  ; he  is  waiting.  His  natural  gen-  ^ 
tleness  seemed  to  have  abandoned  him  ; he  was  some^ 
imes  rude  and  uncouth. § His  disciples  at  times 
ceased  to  comprehend  him,  and  experienced  before 

* John  XII,  27.  t Mark,  iii,  21  seqq. 

iMarlL  III,  22;  John,  vii,  20;  viii,  48  seqq. ; x,  20  seqq. 

Matt:,  VIII,  10;  ix,  2,  22,  28-29;  xvii,  19;  John,  vi,  29  etc. 

Matt.,  XVII,  16,  Mark,  iii,  5;  xx,  18;  Luke,  viii,  45;  ix,  41. 


tIPE  OF  JESUS. 


276 


him  a feeling  of  fear.*  Sometimes  his  intolerance  of 
all  opposition,  led  him  to  acts  inexplicable  and  appa* 
rently  absurd. f 

Not  that  his  virtue  gave  way;  but  his  struggle 
; against  the  material  in  the  name  of  the  ideal  became  in 
/ supportable.  He  was  wounded  by  and  shrank  from 
contact  with  the  earth.  Obstacles  irritated  him.  His 
notion  of  the  Son  of  God  troubled  him  and  grew  ex- 
^ ' aggerated.  The  fatal  law  which  condemns  the  idea  to 
i \ sink  as  soon  as  it  seeks  to  convert  men,  began  to  ap- 
^ ply  to  him.  Contact  with  men  reduced  him  towards 
their  level.  The  tone  which  he  had  assumed  could  not 
be  sustained  longer  than  a few  months ; it  was  time 
that  death  should  come  to  release  him  from  a condition 
i strained  to  excess,  to  deliver  him  from  the  impossibil- 
ities of  a way  without  exit,  and,  while  rescuing  him 
from  an  ordeal  too  much  prolonged,  to  introduce  him 
straightway  sinless  into  his  heavenly  serenity. 

• It  is  especially  in  Mark  that  this  trait  is  perceptible;  iy,  40;  t,  15;  ix  81  n Ml 
t Mark,  XI.  12-14, 20  se<jii. 


276 


ORIGINS  OF  CHUISTIANITT 


CHAPTEE  XX. 

OPPOSITION  TO  JE8U8« 

Dorinq  the  first  period  of  his  career,  it  does  noi 
geem  that  Jesus  had  met  with  any  serious  opposition. 
His  preaching,  owing  to  the  extreme  liberty  which 
was  enjoyed  in  Galilee  and  to  the  number  of  teachers 
who  arose  on  all  sides,  had  no  renown  beyond  a rather 
limited  circle  of  persons.  But  after  Jesus  had  entered 
upon  a brilliant  career  of  prodigies  and  public  successes, 
the  mutterings  of  the  storm  began  to  be  heard.  More 
than  once  he  was  forced  to  hide  or  to  flee.*  Antipater, 
however,  never  interfered  with  him,  although  Jesus 
expressed  himself  sometimes  very  severely  in  his  reg- 
ard.f  At  Tiberias,  his  usual  residence,  the  Tetrarch 
was  only  four  or  flve  miles  from  the  region  chosen  for 
the  centre  of  his  activity ; he  heard  of  his  miracles, 
which  he  doubtless  supposed  were  cunning  tricks,  and 
he  desired  to  see  some  of  them.f  The  faithless  were 
at  that  time  very  curious  in  such  wonders.:}:  With 

his  ordinary  tact,  Jesus  refused.  He  took  good  care 
lot  to  wander  forth  into  an  irreligious  world,  which 
lesired  of  him  nothing  but  a vain  amusement;  he 
aspired  only  to  gain  the  people  ; he  reserved  for  the 
gimpie  means  good  for  them  alone. 

• Matt.,  XII,  14rl6;  Mark,  iii,  T;  xx,  29-30.  f Mark,  viii;  16;  Luke,  xiii,  32. 
t Luke,  IX,  9;  xxiii,  8.  i|  Lucitis,  attributed  to  Lucias  4 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


2^77 


Foi  a moment,  tlie  rumor  spread  that  Jesus  was 
none  other  than  John  the  Baptist  resuscitated  fr(»m  the 
dead.  Antipater  was  anxious  and  troubled  ;*  he  em- 
ployed a ruse  to  lid  his  dominions  of  the  new  prophet. 
ISc  me  Pharisees,  apparently  from  friendship  towards 
Jesus^  came  and  to.d  him  that  Antipatei*  designed 
to  put  him  to  death.  Jesus  notwithstanding  his  great 
simplicity,  detected  the  snare  and  did  not  depart.f 
His  altogether  peaceful  ways,  his  repugnance  to  popu- 
lar agitation  finally  reassured  the  Tetrarch  and  dissi- 
pated the  danger. 

The  new  doctrine  was  far  from  meeting  with  an 
equally  favorable  reception  in  all  the  towns  of  Galilee. 
Not  only  did  unbelieving  Nazareth  continue  to  reject 
him  who  was  to  be  her  glory  ; not  only  did  his  broth- 
ers persist  in  not  believing  on  him  but  the  cities  of 
the  lake  even,  generally  favorable,  were  not  all  con- 
verged. Jesus  frequently  bemoans  the  incredulity  and 
hardness  of  heart  which  he  encounters,  and,  although 
it  is  natural  to  manifest  in  such  reproaches  something 
of  the  exaggeration  of  the  preacher,  although  we  feel 
in  them  that  species  of  convicium  seculi  in  which  Jesus 
delighted  in  imitation  of  John  the  Baptist,|  it  is  clear 
that  the  country  was  far  from  flocking  altogether  to 
the  kingdom  of  God.  ‘‘Woe  unto  thee,  Chorazin! 
woe  unto  thee,  Bethsaida!  he  exclaimed,  for  if  the 
nighty  works  which  were  done  in  you  had  been  done 
n Tyre  and  Sidon,  they  would  have  repented  long  ago 
n sackcloth  and  ashes.  But  I say  unto  you.  It  shall 
be  more  tolerable  for  Tyre  and  Sidon  at  the  day  of 
judgment,  than  for  you.  And  thou,  Capernaum, 

♦ Matt.,  XIV,  1 seqq. ; Mark,  vi,  14  seqq. ; Luke,  ix,  7 seqq. 

+ Luke,  XIII,  31  seqq. 

t John,  VII,  5.  d Matt.,  xii,  39, 45-  xiii,  15;  xvi,  4;  Lune,  x\,  2f 


278 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


which  art  exalted  unto  heaven^  shall  be  brought  down 
unto  hell : for  if  the  mighty  w^orks  which  have  beer 
done  in  thee,  had  been  done  in  Sodom,  it  would  have 
re.nained  until  this  day.  But  I say  unto  you.  That  it 
ihall  be  more  tolerable  for  the  land  of  Sodom,  in  tlio 
day  of  judgment,  than  for  thee.”*  ‘^The  queen  of 
Sheba,  added  he,  shall  rise  up  in  the  judgment  with 
the  men  of  this  generation,  and  condemn  them : for 
she  came  from  the  utmost  parts  of  the  earth,  to  hear 
the  wisdom  of  Solomon ; and  behold,  a greater  than 
Solomon  is  here.  The  men  of  Nineveh  shall  rise  up  in 
the  judgment  with  this  generation,  and  shall  condemn 
it : for  they  repented  at  the  preaching  of  Jonas ; and 
behold,  a greater  than  Jonas  is  here/’f  His  wander- 
ing and  precarious  life,  at  first  full  of  charm  to  him, 
began  also  to  weigh  upon  him.  ‘‘The  foxes”  said  he 
“ have  holes  and  the  birds  of  the  air  have  nests ; but 
the  Son  of  man  hath  not  where  to  lay  his  head.”:}: 
Bitterness  and  reproach  become  more  and  more  mani 
fest  in  his  heart.  He  accused  the  unbelieving  of  re 
fusing  to  yield  to  the  evidence,  and  said  that,  even  at 
the  moment  when  the  Son  of  man  should  appear  in 
his  celestial  glory,  there  would  still  be  those  who 
would  doubt  him.  11 

Jesus  indeed  could  not  accept  opposition  with  the 
coolness  of  the  philosopher,  who,  understanding  the 
reason  of  the  diverse  opinions  which  divide  the  world, 
takes  it  as  a matter  of  course  that  others  should  not  be 
of  his  way  of  thinking.  One  of  the  principal  faults 
of  the  Jewish  race  is  its  bitterness  in  controversy,  and 
the  abusive  tone  which  it  almost  always  assumes  in  it. 

♦ Matt , XI,  21-24;  Luke,  ix,  12.15.  t Matt.,  xii,  41-42;  Luke,  xi  31  12 

X Matt  , vni,  20;  Luke,  ix,68.  ||  Luke,  xviii,  8. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


279 


rhero  were  never  in  the  world  such  passionate  quar- 
rels as  those  which  the  Jews  had  among  themselves. 
It  '8  tlie  sentiment  of  delicate  discrimination  which 
renders  man  polislied  and  moderate.  Now  the  lack 
of  delicate  discriminations  is  one  of  the  most  constan 
traits  of  the  Semitic  mind.  Fine  productions,  the  dia 
logues  of  Plato,  for  example,  are  entirely  foreign  tc 
the  genius  of  these  nations.  Jesus,  who  was  exempt 
from  nearly  all  tlie  defects  of  his  race,  and  whose 
dominant  quality  was  precisely  an  infinite  delicacy, 
was  led  in  spite  of  liirnself,  to  make  use  in  polemics 
of  the  prevalent  style.*  Like  John  the  Baptist, f he 
employed  against  his  adversaries  very  harsh  terms. 
Of  an  exquisite  gentleness  with  the  simple,  he  became 
severe  in  the  presence  of  incredulity,  even  tliat  which 
was  least  aggressive.:];  He  was  no  longer  the  mild 
teacher  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,”  who  had  as 
yet  met  neither  resistance  nor  diflSculty.  Passion, 
which  lay  at  the  bottom  of  his  character,  now  drew 
him  into  the  most  ardent  invective.  This  singular  ad- 
mixture ought  not  to  surprise  us.  A man  of  our  own 
time  has  presented  the  same  contrast  with  extraordi- 
nary distinctness,  M.  de  Lamennais.  In  his  beautiful 
book,  ^'‘Paroles  (Tun  croyant^^  the  most  unbridled 
anger  and  the  gentlest  reflections  alternate  as  in  a mi- 
rage. This  man,  who  had  great  kindness  in  the  con 
versation  of  life,  became  harsh  even  to  madness  to 
wards  those  who  failed  to  think  as  he  did.  Jesus,  ii 
the  same  manner,  applied  to  himself  not  unjustly  th 
passage  of  the  book  of  Isaiah  :|  He  shall  not  cry 
nor  lift  up,  nor  cause  his  voice  to  be  heard  in  the  street 


280 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


A truised  reed  shall  he  not  break,  and  the  smoking 
flax  shall  he  not  quench.’’*  Nevertheless  many  of  I ho 
commands  which  he  gives  to  his  disciples  contain  the 
germs  of  true  fanaticism,!  germs  which  the  middle 
ages  were  to  develope  in  a cruel  w^ay.  Should  he  bo 
blamed  for  this  ? No  revolution  is  ever  accomplished 
without  some  rudeness.  If  Lutlier,  if  the  actorsof  the 
French  Revolution  had  been  compelled  to  observe  the 
rules  of  politeness,  the  Reformation  and  the  Revolu- 
tion would  not  have  been.  Let  ns  congratulate  our- 
selves also  that  Jesus  met  with  no  law  to  punish  out- 
rage on  any  class  of  citizens.  The  Pharisees  would 
have  been  inviolable.  All  the  great  things  of  human- 
ity have  been  accomplished  in  the  name  of  absolute 
principles.  A critical  philosopher  would  have  said  to 
his  disciples : Respect  the  opinion  of  others,  and  be- 
lieve that  no  one  is  so  completely  in  the  right  that  his 
adversary  is  completely  in  the  wrong.  But  the  action 
of  Jesus  has  nothing  in  common  with  the  disinterested 
speculation  of  the  philosopher.  To  confess  that  one 
has  for  a moment  attained  the  ideal,  and  has  been 
checked  by  the  malignity  of  others,  is  a thought  insup- 
portable to  an  ardent  soul.  What  must  it  have  been 
to  the  founder  of  a new  world  ? 

The  invincible  obstacle  to  the  ideas  of  Jesus  came 
above  all  from  orthodox  Judaism,  represented  by  the 
Pharisees.  Jesus  was  departing  more  and  more  from 
he  ancient  Law.  Now,  the  Pharisees  were  the  genu- 
lie  Jews,  the  nerve  and  strength  of  Judaism.  A1 
hough  this  party  had  its  centre  at  Jerusalem,  it  had 
nevertheless  its  adepts  either  living  in  Galilee,  or  com 

• Matt,  XII,  19-20.  t Matt. , x,  14  15, 21  seqq 34  seqq. ; T.  uke,  xix,  21 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


281 


ing  thither  frequently.*  The}'  were  in  general  people 
of  narrow  mind,  much  given  to  outward  appearances, 
of  a scornful  devotion,  formal,  self  satisfied,  and  self- 
confident.f  Their  manners  were  ridiculous,  and  caused 
a smile  even  in  those  who  respected  them.  The  nict 
ames  which  the  people  bestowed  upon  them,  and 
which  partake  of  caricature,  evidence  this.  There  was 
the  bandy-legged  Pharisee”  who  walked  in 

the  streets  dragging  his  feet  and  hitting  them  against 
the  stones ; the  raw  - headed  Pharisee,”  {Kizai)^ 
who  went  with  his  eyes  closed  in  order  not  to  see  the 
women,  and  knocked  his  forehead  against  the  walls  so 
that  it  was  always  bloody  : the  drumstick  Pharisee” 

{MedouJHa)  who  stood  folded  up  like  the  leg  of  a fowl ; 
the  heavy-shouldered  Pharisee,”  {Schikmi)  who 
walked  with  his  back  bent  as  if  he  bore  upon  his 
shoulders  the  entire  weight  of  the  Law;  the  What  is 
there  to  he  done  ? I will  do  it  Pliarisee,”  always  on  the 
scent  for  a precept  to  be  obeyed,  and  finally  the 
painted  Pharisee,”  to  whom  all  the  externals  of  de- 
votion were  only  a varnish  of  hypocrisy.:]:  This  rigor- 
ousness was,  indeed,  frequently  only  apparent,  and 
concealed  in  reality  great  moral  laxity. | The  people 
nevertheless  were  its  dupes.  The  people,  whose  in- 
stincts are  always  right,  even  when  they  blunder  most 
fearfully  upon  the  question  of  persons,  are  very  easily 

• Mark,  vii,  1;  Luke,  v,  17  seqq.;  vii,  ?6. 

Matt.,  VI,  2,  ft,  16;  ix;  11, 14;  xii,  2;  xxiii,  5, 15,  23;  Luke,  v,  30;  vi,  2.  7;  xi 
^ seqq  ; xviii,  12;  John,  ix,  16;  Pirke  Ahoihj  i,  16;  Jos.,  Ant.,  XVII.  ir,  4 
IVIII,  I,  3;  Vita,  38;  Talm.  of  Bab.,  Sota,  22  b. 

X Talm.  of  Jerus.,  Berakoth,  ix.subfln. ; Soia,v,  7;  Talm.  of  Bab.,  Sota,  22  6. 
The  two  versions  of  this  curious  passage  present  sensible  differences.  We  have 
in  general  followed  the  Talmud  or  Babylon,  which  seems  more  natural.  Cf 
Epiph.,  Adv  h(er.,  xvi,  1.  The  statements  of  Epiphanius  and  many  of  those  ot 
the  Talmud  may,  however,  relate  to  an  epoch  posterior  to  Jesus,  an  epoch  it 
which  “ Pharisee  ” had  become  the  spnonyme  of devotee?  ’ 

I Matt.,  V,  20;  xv  4;  xxiii,  3,  16  seqq.;  John,  viii,7;  Jos.,  An(  XII,  ix, 
Xill,  x,6. 


282 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


deceived  by  pretended  devotees.  What  the  jeopl« 
love  in  them  is  good  and  worthy  of  being  loved ; but 
they  have  not  suflScient  penetration  to  discriminate 
between  the  appearance  and  the  reality. 

The  antipathy  which,  in  so  passionate  a world,  mue 
from  the  first  have  burst  forth  between  Jesus  and  per 
Bons  of  this  character,  is  easy  to  comprehend.  Jesua 
desired  nothing  but  the  religion  of  the  heart ; that  of 
the  Pharisees  consisted  almost  exclusively  in  observ- 
ances. Jesus  sought  out  the  humble  and  the  down- 
trodden of  every  sort ; the  Pharisees  saw  in  that  an 
insult  to  their  religion  of  respectability.  A Pharisee 
was  an  infallible  and  impeccable  man,  a pedant,  sure 
that  he  was  right,  taking  the  first  place  in  the  syna- 
gogue, praying  in  the  streets,  giving  alms  at  the 
sound  of  the  trumpet,  and  looking  about  to  see  if  he 
were  saluted.  Jesus  maintained  that  all  men  should 
await  the  judgment  of  God  with  fear  and  humility. 
But  the  false  religious  direction  represented  by  the 
Pharisees  was  far  from  reigning  without  control.  Ma- 
ny men  before  Jesus,  or  of  his  time,  such  as  Jesus  the 
son  of  Sirach,  one  of  the  real  ancestors  of  Jesus  of  Na- 
zareth, Gamaliel,  Antigonus  of  Soco,  and  especially 
the  mild  and  noble  Hillel,  had  taught  religious  doc- 
trines far  more  elevated,  and  already  almost  evangeli- 
cal. But  these  good  seeds  had  been  stified,  the  beau- 
tiful maxims  of  Hillel,  condensing  all  the  Law  into 
equity,*  those  of  Jesus  the  son  of  Sirach,  making  wor 
ihip  consist  in  the  practice  of  good,f  were  forgotten  or 
anathematized.:}:  Schammai,  with  his  narrow  and  ex- 

clusive spirit,  had  gained  the  victory ; an  enormous 

♦ Talm.  of  Bab.,  81  a;  Joma,  35  & fEcd.  xvi  21  seqq.^xxxT,  1 seqq 

t Talm  of  Jems,  f Sanhedrin f xi,  1;  Talm.  of  Bab. , Sa/nhedrin  KK  b. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


283 


mass  of  ^traditions”  had  stifled  the  Law,*  under  pre* 
text  of  caring  for  it  and  interpreting  it.  Undoubted- 
ly these  conservative  measures  had  had  their  portion 
of  utility ; it  was  well  that  tlie  Jewish  people  should 
ove  their  Law  to  madness,  since  it  was  this  fanatica' 
ove  which,  by  saving  the  religion  of  Moses,  unde 
Antiochus  Epiphanes  and  under  Herod,  preserved  the 
leaven  whence  Christianity  was  to  arise.  But  taken 
in  themselves,  all  these  old  precautions  were  merely 
puerile.  The  synagogue  which  was  their  depository, 
was  now  nothmg  more  :han  a motlier  of  errors.  Its 
reign  was  ended,  and  yet  to  ask  it  to  abdicate,  was  to 
ask  the  impossible,  what  no  established  power  has  ever 
done  or  can  do. 

Tlie  struggles  of  Jesus  with  oflicial  hypocrisy  were 
continuous.  The  ordinary  tactics  of  reformers  who 
arise  in  the  religious  state  which  we  have  just  describ- 
ed, and  which  may  be  called  ‘‘  religions  formalism,” 
is  to  oppose  the  ‘‘  text  ” of  the  sacred  books  to  the 

traditions.”  Religious  zeal  is  always  innovating, 
even  when  it  claims  to  be  conservative  in  the  highest 
degree.  Just  as  the  Neo- Catholics  of  our  day  are 
continually  departing  from  the  Gospel,  so  the  Phari- 
sees departed  at  every  step  from  the  Bible.  This  is 
why  the  Puritan  reformer  usually  is  particularly  “ bi- 
blical,” starting  from  the  immutable  text  to  criticise 
ho  current  theology  which  has  been  progressing  from 
generation  to  generation.  Thus  did  the  Karaites,  and 
the  Protestants  at  a later  day.  Jesus  laid  the  axe  at 
tlie  root  of  the  tree  far  more  energetically.  \Ve  see 
him  sometimes,  it  is  true,  invoke  the  text  against  the 
pretended  Masores  or  traditions  of  the  l^harisees.*! 

• Matt , XV,  2.  t Matt. , xv,  2 se^rj. ; Mark,  vii , 2 


^84 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY, 


But,  in  general,  he  makes  little  of  exegesis ; it  is  the 
conscience  to  which  he  appeals.  At  the  same  blow  he 
hews  down  text  and  commentaries.  He  shows  clearly 
to  the  Pharisees,  that  with  tlieir  traditions  they  are 
Boriously  innovating  upon  the  religion  of  Moses  ; but 
le  by  no  means  claims  himself  to  return  to  Moses. 
His  aim  was  forward,  not  backward.  Jesus  was  more 
than  the  reformer  of  a superannuated  religion ; he  was 
the  creator  of  the  eternal  religion  of  humanity. 

Disputes  arose,  especially  in  regard  to  a multitude 
of  external  rites  introduced  by  tradition,  and  which 
neither  Jesus  nor  his  disciples  observed.*  The  Phar- 
isees reproached  them  for  it  severely.  When  he  dined 
with  them,  he  scandalized  them  greatly  by  not  con- 
forming to  the  prescribed  ablutions.  Give  ye  alms, 
said  he,  and  all  things  shall  become  clean  unto  you.”f 
What  offended  in  the  highest  degree  his  delicate  sen- 
sitiveness was  the  air  of  assurance  which  the  Phari- 
sees carried  into  religious  affairs,  their  contemptible 
devotion,  which  resulted  in  an  empty  search  for  pre- 
rogatives and  titles,  and  in  no  wise  in  the  amelioration 
of  the  heart.  An  admirable  parable  interpreted  this 
idea  with  infinite  charm  and  exactness.  “ One  day, 
said  he,  two  men  went  up  into  the  temple  to  pray ; the 
one  a Pharisee,  and  the  other  a publican.  The  Phari- 
see stood  up  and  prayed  thus  with  himself,  God,  I 
hank  thee  that  I am  not  as  other  men  are,  extortion* 
ers,  unjust,  adulterers,  or  even  as  this  publican.  1 
fast  twice  in  the  week,  I give  tithes  of  all  that  I pos 
^ess.  And  the  publican,  standing  afar  off,  would  not 
iift  up  sc  much  as  his  eyes  unto  heaven,  but  smote  up. 

• Matt. , XV,  2 seqq. ; Mark,  yii,  4, 8;  Luke,  v,  sub  fin. ; and  yi,  init. ; xi,  8ft  leqq 
t Luke,  xi,  41. 


LIFE  OP  JESUS. 


285 


oil  his  breast,  saying,  God  be  merciful  to  me  a sinner. 
I tell  you,  this  man  went  down  to  his  house  justified 
rather  than  the  other.”* 

A hatred  which  could  be  appeased  only  by  death 
was  the  consequence  of  these  struggles.  John  the 
Baptist  had  already  provoked  hostilities  of  the  same 
kind.f  But  the  aristocrats  of  Jerusalem,  who  dis- 
dained him,  had  allowed  the  simple  people  to  consider 
him  a prophet.^  Now,  the  war  was  to  the  death.  It 
was  a new  spirit  which  appeared  in  the  world  and 
which  struck  with  decay  all  that  had  preceded  it, 
John  the  Baptist  was  thoroughly  a Jew  ; Jesus  was 
hardly  so  at  all.  Jesus  addresses  himself  always  to 
the  delicacy  of  the  moral  sentiment.  He  is  a di^puter 
only  when  he  argues  against  the  Pharisees,  the  adver- 
sary forcing  him,  as  happens  almost  always,  to  take 
his  own  tone. II  His  exquisite  irony,  his  arch  provo- 
cations, always  struck  to  the  heart.  Eternal  darts, 
they  remained  fixed  in  the  wound.  The  Nessus  shirt 
of  ridicule,  which  the  Jew,  son  of  the  Pharisees,  has 
dragged  after  him  in  tatters  for  these  eighteen  centu- 
ries, was  woven  by  Jesus  with  divine  art.  Master- 
pieces of  lofty  raillery,  his  traits  are  written  in  lines 
of  fire  upon  the  fiesh  of  the  hypocrite  and  the  pre- 
tended devotee.  Incomparable  traits,  traits  worthy 
of  a Son  of  God ! Thus,  a God  alone  can  kill.  Socra 
tes  and  Moliere  but  graze  the  skin.  He  carries  fire 
and  madness  into  the  marrow  of  the  bones. 

But.it  was  just  also  that  this  great  master  of  irony 
should  pay  for  his  triumph  with  his  life.  Even  iu 
Galilee,  the  Pharisees  employed  against  him  "-he 

• Luke,  XVIII,  9-14;  Comp,  ibid.,  xiv,  7-11. 

t Matt. , m,  7 seqq. ; xvii,  12-13.  X Matt. , xiv,  6-  xxi,  26- Mark,  xi,  32  Luke,  ixi,  i 
I Matt,xii,3-8;  xxiii,  16  seqq.  ’ * 


286 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


device,  which  was  afterwards  to  be  successful  at  Jeru- 
salem. They  undertook  to  interest  in  their  quarrel- 
the  partizans  of  the  new  political  order  which  had 
been  established.*  The  facilities  for  escape  which  Je 
BUS  found  in  Galilee,  and  the  feebleness  of  the  govern 
ment  of  Antipater  defeated  these  endeavors.  He  went 
of  himself  to  meet  the  danger.  He  saw  well  that  hia 
action,  if  it  were  confined  to  Galilee,  was  necessarily 
limited.  Judea  drew  him  as  by  a charm ; he  would 
make  a last  attempt  to  gain  over  the  rebellious  city 
and  seemed  to  assume  the  task  of  justifying  the  pro- 
verb that  a prophet  might  hot  perish  out  of  Jerusa- 
lem.f 


• XaA,  m,t. 


t I-ak»,  zin,  8*. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


287 


CHAPTEE  XXI. 

&AST  JDUBKET  OF  JBSUS  TO  JBBITBALBM. 

Longtime  had  Jesus  divined  the  dangers  which 
Brrrounded  him.*  For  a period  which  we  may 
estimate  at  eighteen  months,  he  avoided  the  pilgrim- 
age to  Jerusalem. f At  the  feast  of  Tabernacles  of  the 
year  82  (according  to  the  hypothesis  which  we  have 
adopted),  his  relatives,  still  indisposed  and  incredulous^ 
induced  him  to  go  thither.  The  evangelist  John  seems 
to  intimate  that  there  was  in  this  invitation  some  con- 
cealed project  to  destroy  him.  ‘‘  Show  thyself  to  the 
world,”  said  they  ; “ these  things  are  not  done  in  secret, 
Go  into  Judea,  that  men  may  see  the  works  that  thou 
doest.”  Jesus,  suspecting  some  treachery,  at  first  re- 
fused ; afterwards,  when  the  caravan  of  pilgrims  was 
gone,  he  began  the  journey  unknown  to  all,  and  almost 
alone.)  This  was  his  last  farewell  to  Galilee.  The 
feast  of  Tabernacles  fell  upon  the  autumnal  equinox. 
Six  months  were  yet  to  roll  away  before  the  fatal  end. 
But  during  this  interval  Jesus  did  not  see  again  hia 
lear  provinces  of  the  North.  The  grateful  days  are 
passed ; he  must  now  tread  step  by  step  the  painful 
path  which  shall  end  in  the  agonies  of  death. 


238 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


His  disciples  and  the  pious  women  who  waited  on 
him  met  him  in  Judea.*  But  to  him  how  changed 
were  all  things  here ! Jesus  was  a stranger  in  Jerusa- 
lem. He  felt  that  there  was  here  a wall  of  resistance 
which  he  could  not  penetrate.  Surrounded  by  snare 
^nd  objections,  he  was  incessantly  pursued  by  the  ill 
will  of  the  Pharisees.f  Instead  of  this  unlimited  fa- 
cility of  faith,  the  happy  gift  of  young  natures,  which 
he  found  in  Galilee,  instead  of  these  mild  and  gentle 
people  to  whom  objection  (which  is  always  the 
fruit  of  some  little  malevolence  and  indocility)  found 
no  access,  he  encountered  here  at  every  step  an  obsti- 
nate incredulity,  upon  which  the  means  of  action  which 
had  succeeded  so  well  in  the  North  produced  little  ef- 
fect. His  disciples,  being  Galileans,  were  despised. 
Nicodemus,  who  had  on  one  of  his  previous  journeys 
had  an  interview  with  him  by  night,  almost  compro- 
mised himself  with  the  Sanhedrin  for  attempting  to 
defend  him.  What ! art  thou  also  a Galilean  ?”  said 
tliey ; ‘‘search  the  Scriptures;  can  a prophet  come  out 
of  Galilee 

The  city,  as  we  have  already  said,  was  unpleasant 
unto  Jesus.  Thus  far,  he  had  always  avoided  the  great 
centers,  preferring  for  his  field  of  action  the  country 
and  towns  of  small  importance.  Many  of  the  precepts 
which  he  gave  the  apostles  were  absolutely  inapplica- 
ble outside  of  a simple  society  of  humble  people.J 
flaving  no  idea  of  the  world,  accustomed  to  his  friend- 
ly Galilean  communism,  naivetes  were  constantly  es 
caping  him,  which  at  Jerusalem  might  appear  singu 

♦ Matt.,  XXVII,  65;  Mark,  XV  41.  Luke,  xxiii,  49, 55. 

JJohn,  VII,  20,  25,  30, 32. 

John,  YU,  50  seqq.  | Matt.,  x,  11-13;  Mark,  yi,  10;  Luke,  x §4 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


289 


iar.*  His  imagination,  his  taste  for  nature  found  itself 
constrained  within  these  walls.  The  true  religion  was 
not  to  spring  from  tlie  tumult  of  cities,  but  from  the 
tranquil  serenity  of  the  fields. 

The  arrogance  of  tlie  priests  rendered  the  porches  of 
tlie  temple  distasteful  to  him.  One  day,  some  of  hi 
disciples,  who  knew  Jerusalem  better  than  he,  wished 
to  attract  his  attention  to  the  beauty  of  the  buildings 
of  the  temple,  the  admirable  selection  of  materials, 
and  the  votive  ofterings  which  covered  the  walls : “ See 
ye  all  these  things,’’  said  he  ; verily  I say  unto  you, 
there  shall  not  be  left  here  one  stone  upon  another.”f 
He  refused  to  admire  anything  except  a poor  widow 
who  was  passing  at  that  moment,  and  threw  into  the 
treasury  a small  coin:  ‘‘She  has  given  more  than  they 
all,”  said  he;  “the  others  have  given  out  of  their 
abundance ; she,  of  her  want.”:}:  This  manner  of  crit- 

ically regarding  all  that  was  done  at  Jerusa’  >m,  of  ex- 
alting the  poor  who  gave  little,  and  abasing  the  rich 
who  gave  much,||  of  blaming  the  opulent  clergy  who 
did  nothing  for  the  good  of  the  people,  naturally  exas- 
perated the  priestly  caste.  The  seat  of  a conservative 
aristocracy,  the  temple,  like  the  Moslem  haram  which 
has  supplanted  it,  was  the  last  place  in  the  world 
in  which  the  revolution  could  succeed.  Imagine  an 
innovator  of  our  day  going  to  preach  the  overthrow 
of  Islamism  about  the  Mosque  of  Omar.  Here  was, 
however,  the  center  of  Jewish  life,  the  point  at  which 
he  must  conquer  or  die.  Upon  this  Calvary,  where 
certainly  Jesus  suffered  more  than  at  Golgotha,  his 

• Matt.,  XXI,  3;  xxvi,  18;  Mark,  srx,  3;  xrv,  13-14;  Luke,  xix,  31;  xxii,  10-12. 

♦ Matt., XXIV,  1-2;  Mark,  xiii,  1-2;  Luke,  xix,  44;  xxi,  5 6.  Cf.  Mark,  xi,  IL 

I Mark, XIX,  41  seqq. ; Luke,  xxi,  1 seqq.  | Mark,  xii,  41 


290 


ORIGINS  OF  CHMSTIANITY. 


days  rolled  by  in  dispute  and  in  acrimony,  in  weari 
some  controversies  concerning  canonical  law  and 
exegesis,  in  which  his  great  moral  elevation  secured 
him  little  advantage,  nay,  rather  gave  him  a species 
>f  inferiority. 

In  the  midst  of  this  troubled  life,  the  kindly  and 
ensitive  heart  of  Jesus  succeeded  in  creating  for  it- 
self an  asylum  in  which  he  had  much  sweet  enjoy- 
ment. After  passing  the  day  in  the  disputes  of  the 
temple,  Jesus  descended  at  evening  into  the  valley  o>’ 
Cedron,  took  a little  repose  in  the  orchard  of  a farm- 
ing establishment  (probably  for  the  manufacture  ot 
oil)  named  Oetlisemane^  which  served  as  a pleasure- 
garden  for  the  inhabitants,  and  went  to  pass  the  night 
upon  the  Mount  of  Olives,  which  bounds  the  horizon 
of  the  city  on  the  east.f  This  side  is  the  only  one 
which,  in  the  environs  of  Jerusalem,  presents  an  as- 
pect in  any  degree  verdant  and  cheerful.  Plantations 
of  olive,  tig  and  palm  trees  were  numerous  and  gave 
their  names  to  the  villages,  farms  or  enclosures  of 
Bethphage,  Gethsemane,  and  Bethany.J  There  were 
upon  the  Mount  of  Olives  two  great  cedars,  the  mem 
ory  of  which  was  long  preserved  among  the  exiled 
Jews  ; their  branches  served  as  an  asylum  for  clouds 
of  doves,  and  under  their  shade  little  bazaars  were  es- 
tablished.! This  whole  suburb  was  to  a certain  extent 
the  quarter  of  Jesus  and  his  disciples  ; they  seem  to 
fiave  known  it  field  by  field  and  house  by  house. 


• Mark,  xi,  19;  Luke,  xxii,  39,  John,  xviii,  1-2.  This  orchard  could  not  have 
been  far  from  the  place  where  the  piety  of  the  Catholics  has  surrounded  somt 
old  olive  trees  with  a wall.  The  word  Oethxemane  seems  to  signify  an  oil-press.’ 
t Luke,  XXI,  87;  xxii,  39:  John,  viii,  1-4 

X Tidm.  of  Bah  , Pesachm^  53  a.  | Talm.  of  Jerus. , TamnUki  jTs  I 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


291 


Tlie  village  of  Bethany,  in  particular,*  situated  at 
the  summit  of  the  hill,  upon  the  slope  towards  the 
Dead  Sea  and  the  Jordan,  six  miles  from  Jerusalem, 
was  the  favorite  resting-place  of  Jesus.f  He  tliere 
made  the  acquaintance  of  a family  composed  of  three 
ersons,  two  sisters  and  a brother,  whose  friendship 
was  very  dear  to  him.:j:  Of  the  two  sisters,  one, 

named  Martha,  was  an  obliging,  kind  and  eager  per- 
son ;|  the  other,  on  the  contrary,  named  Mary,  pleased 
Jesus  by  a species  of  languor,§  and  by  her  largely  de- 
veloped speculative  instincts.  Often  seated  at  the  feet 
of  Jesus,  she  forgot  to  attend  to  the  duties  of  material 
life.  Her  sister,  at  such  times,  upon  wliom  fell  all  the 
labor,  complained  gently  : “ Martha,  Martha,  said  Je- 
sus unto  her,  thou  art  careful  and  troubled  about 
many  things : but  one  thing  is  needful ; and  Mary 
hath  chosen  that  good  part,  which  shall  not  be  taken 
away  from  her.”^  The  brother,  Eleazer,  or  Lazarus, 
was  also  much  beloved  by  Jesus.**  Finally,  a certain 
Simon  the  Leper,  who  was  the  owner  of  the  house, 
constituted,  it  appears,  a part  of  the  family.ff  It  was 
there,  in  the  embrace  of  a pious  friendship,  that 
Jesus  forgot  the  disgusts  of  public  life.  In  this  tran- 
quil household,  he  found  consolation  for  the  annoy 
ances  which  the  Pharisees  and  the  Scribes  never 
ceased  to  excite  against  him.  He  often  seated  him- 
Beif  upon  the  Mount  of  Olives,  opposite  Mount  Mo 
iah4:|:  and  fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  splendid  perspec 
ive  of  the  terraces  of  the  temple  and  its  roofs  covered 

♦ Now  El-Azirie  (from  El-Azir,  the  Arabian  name  of  Lazarus) ; in  the  Christian 
texts  of  the  middle  ages,  Lazarium. 

+ Matt.,  XXI,  17-18;  Mark,  xi,  11-12.  % John,  xi,  6. 

g Luke,  X,  38-42;  John,  xii,  2.  ^ John,  xi,  20.  f Luke,  x,  38  seqq 

John,  XI,  35-36. 

1*1  Matt  , XXVI,  6;  Mark,  xiv,  8;  Luke,  Tii,  40, 43;  John,  xii,  1 seqq. 

U Mark,  xiii  3. 


292 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


with  sparkling  metallic  plates.  Tliis  prospect  inspired 
strangers  with  admiration  ; at  sunrise  especially,  the 
sacred  mountain  dazzled  the  eyes  and  appeared  like  a 
mass  of  snow  and  gold.*  But  a deep  feeling  of  sad- 
Jiess  embittered  to  Jesus  the  spectacle  which  filled  all 
»ther  Israelites  with  joy  and  pride.  ‘‘  Jerusalem,  Je 
iisalem,  thou  that  killest  the  prophets,  and  stonest 
diem  which  are  sent  unto  thee,  exclaimed  he  at  such 
bitter  moments,  how  often  would  I have  gathered  thy 
children  together,  even  as  a hen  gathereth  her  chick- 
ens under  her  wings,  and  ye  would  not  !”f 

Not  that  many  good  souls,  here  as  well  as  in  Gali- 
lee, were  not  touched.  But  such  was  the  weight  of 
the  dominant  orthodoxy  that  very  few  dared  confess 
it.  Men  feared  to  discredit  themselves  in  the  eyes  of 
the  Hierosoly  mites  by  joining  the  school  of  a Galilean. 
They  would  have  risked  being  driven  out  of  the  syna- 
gogue, which  in  a mean  and  bigoted  society  was  the 
gieatest  possible  aftVont.:]:  Excommunication,  more- 

over, entailed  the  confiscation  of  property.!  By  ceas- 
ing to  be  a Jew  a man  did  not  become  a Roman  , he 
was  left  without  defense  against  the  power  of  a theo- 
cratic legislation  of  the  most  atrocious  severity.  One 
day,  the  under  officeis  of  the  temple,  who  had  attended 
one  of  the  discourses  of  Jesus  and  had  been  enchanted 
with  it,  came  to  confide  their  doubts  to  the  priest : 
^ Have  any  of  the  rulers  or  of  the  Pharisees  believed 
on  iiim,”  was  the  reply  : “ this  people  who  knoweth 
not  the  Law,  are  cursed.’’§  Jesus  remained  thus  at 
lerusalem  a countryman  admired  by  countrymen  like 

* Josephus,  5.  j: , V,  V,  6.  t Matt. , xxiii,  37 ; Luke,  xiu,  84 

!♦  John,  vii,  13-  XII,  42-4 xix,  38. 

I Esdr.,  X.  8;  Ueb.,  x, 34;  Talm  of  Jerus  , Moed  katon,  m,  1. 

Johu^  VII,  46  seqq. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


293 


himself,  but  repelled  by  all  the  aristocracy  of  the  na 
tion.  The  leaders  of  schools  and  sects  were  too  mi 
merous  for  the  appearance  of  another  to  create  much 
excitement.  His  voice  gained  little  fame  at  Jerusa 
lem.  Prejudices  of  race  and  sect,  the  direct  enemies 
of  the  spirit  of  the  gospel,  were  too  deeply  rooted 
(here. 

His  teaching,  in  this  new  world,  necessarily  became 
greatly  modified.  His  beautiful  sermons,  which  were 
always  calculated  to  affect  the  young  imagination  and 
the  moral  purity  of  the  conscience  of  his  auditors, 
here  fell  upon  stone.  He  himself,  so  at  ease  on  the 
shore  of  his  charming  little  lake,  was  constrained  and 
thrown  out  of  his  proper  element  in  the  presence  of 
pedants.  His  perpetual  affirmations  concerning  him- 
self began  to  be  somewhat  wearisome.*  He  was 
obliged  to  make  himself  a controversialist,  a jurist,  an 
expounder,  and  a theologian.  His  conversations,  or- 
dinarily full  of  grace,  become  a running  fire  of  dis- 
putes,f  an  interminable  succession  of  scholastic  bat- 
tles. His  harmonious  genius  is  extenuated  in  insipid 
argumentations  upon  the  Law  and  the  prophets,:}:  in 
which  we  would  sometimes  prefer  not  to  see  him  act 
the  part  of  the  aggressor. | He  lends  himself,  with  a 
condescension  that  wounds  us,  to  the  captious  inqui- 
ries which  quibblers  without  tact  force  upon  him.§  In 
general,  he  extricated  himself  from  embarrassmeni 
with  great  address.  His  reasonings,  it  is  true,  werw 
often  subtle  (simplicity  of  mind  and  subtlety  touch 
each  other ; when  the  simple  man  would  reason,  ne 
is  always  a little  sophistical) ; we  can  see  that  some* 


• John,  Till,  13  seqq, 


^ TXll^  XO 

I MfttI  , XXII,  42  seqq 


t Matt.  XXI,  23-37. 


294 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


times  lie  seeks  misunderstandings^  and  purposely  pro 
longs  them  ;*  liis  ratiocination,  judge-l  by  the  rules  of 
Aristoteean  logic,  is  very  weak.  But  when  the  peerlesa 
charm  of  his  spirit  could  manifest  itself,  he  was  triuub 
phant.  One  day  some  one  thought  to  embarrass  hiii 
by  presenting  an  adulterous  woman  and  asking  bin 
how  she  should  be  treated.  We  know  the  admirable 
reply  of  Jesus.f  The  acute  raillery  of  the  man  of  the 
world,  tempered  by  a divine  goodness,  could  find  ex- 
pressicm  in  no  more  exquisite  manner.  But  the  wit 
which  is  allied  to  moral  grandeur  is  that  which  fools 
can  least  pardon.  When  he  pronounced  these  words 
of  a discernment  so  just  and  so  pure,  He  that  is  with- 
out sin  among  you,  let  him  cast  the  first  stone,”  Jesus 
pierced  hypocrisy  to  the  heart,  and  at  the  same  mo- 
ment signed  his  own  death  warrant. 

It  is  probable,  indeed,  that  without  the  exaspera- 
tion caused  by  so  many  bitter  retorts,  Jesus  might 
long  have  remained  unknown,  and  have  been  lost  in 
the  terrible  tempest  which  was  soon  to  overwhelm  the 
whole  Jewish  nation.  The  high  priests  and  the  Sad- 
ducees  felt  for  him  contempt  rather  than  hatred.  The 
great  priestly  families,  the  Boethusiin^  the  family  of  Ha- 
nan,  were  fanatical  in  nothing  but  repose.  The  Saddu- 
cees,  like  Jesus,  repelled  the  traditions  ” of  the  Phari* 
Bees4  By  a very  strange  singulai  ity,  it  was  these  unbe 
lievers,  denying  the  resurrection,  the  oral  law,  and  th 

* See  especially  the  discussions  reported  by  John,  chap,  vii,  for  example;  It  i 
Irne  that  the  authenticity  of  such  fragments  is  only  relative. 

•f  J ohn,  VIII 3 seqq.  This  passage  did  not  constitute,  at  first,  a part  of  the  Gospe 
of  .John:  it  is  wanting  in  the  most  ancient  manuscripts,  and  the  text  of  it  is  un 
certain.  Nevertheless,*  it  is  a primitive  evangelical  tradition,  as  is  proved  by  th4 
striking  particularity  of  verses  6 and  8,  which  are  not  in  the  style  of  Luke,  and 
of  the  second-hand  compilers,  who  state  nothing  which  does  not  explain  itself 
rills  history  was  continued,  it  would  seem,  in  the  Gospel  according  to  the  He 
brews  (Papias,  cited  by  Eusebius,  Rist.  ecd..  Ill,  39). 

X JO0.,  AtU.,  XIII,  X,  6:  XVIII,  t,4. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


295 


existence  of  angels,  who  were  the  genuine  Jews,  or,  to 
Bpeak  more  properly,  the  ancient  law  in  its  simplicity  no 
longer  satisfied  the  religious  needs  of  the  tfrae,  those 
who  held  strictly  to  it  and  rejected  the  modern  inven- 
tions seemed  to  the  devotees  impious,  much  as  an  evan 
gelical  Protestant  now  appears  an  infidel  in  orthodox 
countri  s.  At  all  events,  it  was  not  from  such  a party 
that  a very  severe  reaction  against  Jesus  could  come. 
The  official  priesthood,  looking  towards  the  political 
power  and  ultimately  allied  with  it,  comprehended  no- 
thing of  these  enthusiastic  movements.  It  was  the 
Pharisaic  bourgeoisie,  the  innumerable  soferim  or 
scribes,  living  by  the  knowledge  of  the  traditions,” 
who  took  alarm,  and  who  were  in  reality  menaced  in 
tlieir  prejudices  and  their  interests  by  the  teaching  of 
the  new  master. 

One  of  the  most  constant  efforts  of  the  Pharisees  was 
to  draw  Jesus  into  the  arena  of  political  questions  and 
to  compromise  him  with  the  party  of  Juda  the  Gaulo- 
nite.  The  tactics  were  skillful ; for  it  required  the 
profound  ingenuity  of  Jesus  never  to  have  become  im- 
broiled  with  tlie  Koman  authority,  notwithstanding 
his  proclamation  of  the  kingdom  of  God.  They  wished 
to  tear  away  this  ambiguity,  and  to  compel  him  to  ex 
plain.  One  day,  a group  of  Pharisees  of  the  political 
order  called  Herodians,”  (probably  Boetliusirn)  ap 
proached  him,  and  under  the  appearance  of  pious  zeal 
‘ Master,  said  they,  we  know  that  thou  art  true,  and 
leachest  the  way  of  God  in  truth,  neither  carest  thou 
for  any  man  ; for  thou  regardest  not  the  person  of 
men.  Tell  us  therefore,  What  thinkest  thou  ? Is  it 
lawful  to  give  tribute  unto  Caesar,  or  not  ?”  They 
hoped  for  an  answer  which  would  give  a pretext  foi 


296 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


delivering  him  to  Pilate.  That  of  Jesus  was  admira^ 
hie.  He  caused  the  image  upon  the  current  coin  to 
be  shown  him.  “ Pender,  said  he,  unto  Caesar  the 
things  which  are  Caesar’s,  and  unto  God  the  things  tha 
are  God’s.”*^  Deep  words  which  decided  the  future 
of  Christianity  ! Words  of  perfect  spirituality  and  a 
Djarvellous  justness,  which  founded  the  separaticn  of 
the  spiritual  from  the  temporal,  and  established  the 
foundation  of  true  liberalism  and  of  true  civilization  1 

His  gentle  and  penetrating  genius  inspired  him, 
when  he  was  alone  among  his  disciples,  with  accents 
full  of  charm:  ‘Werily,  verily,  I say  unto  you.  He 
that  entereth  not  by  the  door  into  the  sheepfold  is  a 
robber.  But  he  that  entereth  in  by  the  door  is  the 
shepherd  of  the  sheep.  The  sheep  hear  his  voice  ; and 
he  calleth  them  out : he  goeth  before  them,  and  the 
sheep  follow  him  ; for  they  know  his  voice.  The  thief 
cometh  not  but  to  steal  and  to  kill  and  to  destroy. 
The  hireling,  whose  own  the  sheep  are  not,  seeth  the 
wolf  coming,  and  leaveth  the  sheep,  and  fleeth.  But 
I am  the  good  shepherd,  and  know  my  sheep,  and  am 
known  of  mine;  and  I lay  down  my  life  for  my 
pheep.”t  The  idea  of  a speedy  solution  of  the  crisis 
of  humanity  comes  before  him:  When  the  branch 

of  the  fig-tree,  said  he,  is  yet  tender,  and  putteth 
forth  leaves,  ye  know  that  summer  is  nigh.  Lift  up 
your  eyes  and  look  upon  the  world ; it  is  white  for 
the  harvest.”:}: 

His  vigorous  eloquence  was  alw^ays  exhibited  when 
he  was  called  to  combat  hypocrisy.  “ The  scribes  and 
Pharisees  sit  in  Moses’  seat : All  therefore  whatsoever 

• Matt.,  XII,  15  seqq.;  Mark,  xii,  13  seqq.;  Luke.  xx,20  seqq.  Comp.  Talm.  or 
JtfWi.^Sanhedrin,  II,  3.  t 1-16. 

X Matt.,  XXIV,  32;  Ma^-k,  xiii,  28;  Luke,  xxi,  30,  John,  iv,  36. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


297 


tliey  bid  you  observe,  that  observe  and  do  : but  do  not 
ye  alter  tlieir  works;  tor  they  say  and  do  not.  For 
they  bind  heavy  burdens  and  grievous  to  be  borne, 
and  lay  them  on  men’s  shoulders ; but  tliey  themselves 
will  not  move  them  with  one  of  their  fingers.” 

“ But  all  their  works  they  do  for  to  be  seen  of  men  : 
they  make  broad  their  phylacteries,*  and  enlarge  the 
borders  of  their  garments, f and  love  the  uppermost 
rooms  at  feasts,  and  the  chief  seats  in  the  synagogues, 
and  greetings  in  the  markets,  and  to  be  called  of  men, 
‘ Master ! ’ Woe  unto  them  1 

Woe  unto  you,  scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypocrites  ! 
who  have  taken  the  key  of  knowledge  and  use  it  only 
to  shut  up  the  kingdom  of  lieaven  against  men  !:{;  Yo 
neither  go  in  yourselves,  neither  suffer  ye  them  that 
are  entering  to  go  in.  Woe  unto  you,  for  ye  compass 
sea  and  land  to  make  one  proselyte,  and  when  he  is 
made,  ye  make  him  two  fold  more  the  child  of  hell 
than  yourselves.  Woe  unto  you,  for  you  are  as  graves 
which  appear  not,  and  over  which  men  walk  una- 
wares !| 

“ Ye  fools  and  blind  1 who  pay  tithe  of  mint  and 
anise  and  cummin,  and  have  omitted  the  weightier 
matters  of  the  law,  judgment,  mercy  and  faith  ; these 
ought  ye  to  have  done,  and  not  to  leave  the  other  un 


• Totirfotk  or  tejillin,  plates  of  metal  or  bands  of  parchment,  containing  passage# 
f the  Law,  which  the  Jewish  devotees  wore  on  the  forehead  and  the  left  aria, 
Jterally  carrying  out  the  passages  Ex..xin,  9;  Dent.,  vi,  8;  xi,  18. 

“f  ZmtA,  red  borders  or  fringes,  whiph  the  Jews  wore  on  the  comer  of  thefif 
aoantles  to  distinguish  them  from  pagans  (Numbers,  xv,  38-39;  Deut.,  xxii,  12). 

J The  Pharisees  exclude  men  from  the  kingdom  of  God  by  their  fastidioui 
ssuistry,  which  renders  the  entrance  too  difficult,  and  discourages  the  simple. 

j]  Contact  with  graves  rendered  impure.  So  they  took  heed  to  mark  carefully 
their  outline  upon  the  ground.  Talm.  of  Bab,,  Ba^a  Bathra  58  a;  Baba  Mdsia,  4S 
The  reproach  that  Jesus  addresses  here  to  the  Pharisees  is  that  they  have  in 
vented  a multitude  of  petty  precepts  which  are  violated  thoughtlessly,  and  whicb 
lerve  only  to  multiply  transgressions  of  the  Law. 


18* 


298 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


done.  Blind  guides,  who  strain  your  wine  for  a gnat 
and, swallow  a camel,  woe  unto  you! 

Woe  unto  you,  scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypocrites  < 
for  ye  make  clean  the  outside  of  the  cup  and  of  the 
platter,*  but  within  they  are  full  of  extortion  and  of 
excess.  Blind  Pharisee, f cleanse  first  that  which  is 
within ; then  mayst  thou  look  to  the  cleanliness  of  that 
which  is  without.”;]: 

Woe  unto  you,  scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypocrites  I 
for  ye  are  like  unto  whited  sepulchres,!  which  indeed 
appear  beautiful  outward,  but  are  within  full  of  dead 
men’s  bones,  and  of  all  uncleanness.  Even  so  ye  also 
outwardly  appear  righteous  unto  men,  but  within  ye 
are  full  of  hypocrisy  and  iniquity. 

Woe  unto  you,  scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypocrites! 
because  ye  build  the  tombs  of  tlie  prophets,  and  gar 
nish  the  sepulchres  of  the  rigliteous,  and  say.  If  we 
had  been  in  the  days  of  our  fathers,  we  would  not 
have  been  partakers  with  them  in  the  blood  of  the 
prophets.  Wherefore,  ye  be  witnesses  unto  yourselves, 
that  ye  are  the  children  of  them  that  killed  the  pro- 
phets. Fill  ye  up  then  the  measure  of  your  fathers. 
Therefore  also  said  the  Wisdom  of  God,§  ‘‘I  will  send 
unto  you  prophets,  and  wise  men,  and  scribes ; and 
Bome  of  them  ye  shall  kill  and  crucify,  and  some  of 

♦ The  purification  of  dishes  was  subject  among  the  Pharisees  to  the  most  com 
plex  rules  (Mark,  vii,4). 

t This  epithet,  often  repeated  (Matt.,  xxiii,  17, 19,  24,  26),  contains  perhaps  an 
illusion  to  the  habit  which  certain  Pharisees  had  of  walking  with  closed  eyes  in 
tffectation  of  sanctity.  See  above,  p.  281. 

X Luke  (xi,  37  seqq.)  supposes,  not  without  reason,  perhaps,  that  this  versv 
was  spoken  at  a meal,  in  response  to  the  empty  scruples  of  the  Pharisees. 

Ij  lombs  being  impure,  it  was  customary  to  whitewash  them,  as  a warnmg  not 
to  approach  any.  See  preceding  page,  note  1|,  andMischna,  Miasar  scheniy  ▼,  1 
Talm.  of  Jerus.,  Schekalim,  i,l’,  Maasar  scheni,Yyl;  Moed  kaUmy  i,  2;  Sotay  ix,  1 
Talm.  of  Bab- , Moed  katouy  6 a.  Perhaps  there  is  in  the  comparison  of  which  JefUf 
makes  use  an  allusion  to  the  “ painted  Pharisee.”  See  above,  p.  281) 

§ From  what  book  this  Is  qv  )ted  is  unknown. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


299 


them  stall  ye  scourge  in  your  synagogues,  and  perse- 
cute them  from  city  to  city : that  upon  you  may  coma 
all  the  righteous  blood  shed  upon  the  earth,  from  the 
blood  of  righteous  Abel,  unto  the  blood  of  Zacharias, 
son  of  Barachias,*  whom  ye  slew  between  the  tempi 
and  the  altar.  Yerily  I say  unto  you,  It  shall  be  rc 
quired  of  this  generation.”f 

His  terrible  dogma  of  the  substitution  of  the  Gen- 
tiles, this  idea  that  the  kingdom  of  God  was  to  be 
transferred  to  others,  those  for  whom  it  was  destin- 
ed not  having  desired  it,:}:  came  like  a bloody  menace 
before  the  aristocracy,  and  his  title  of  Son  of  God, 
which  he  openly  avowed  in  vivid  parables,!  in  which 
his  enemies  played  the  part  of  murderers  of  the  heav- 
enly messengers,  was  a defiance  to  legalJudaism.  The 
bold  appeal  which  he  addressed  to  the  poor  was  yet 
more  seditious.  He  declared  that  he  had  come  to 
open  the  eyes  of  the  blind,  and  to  make  blind  those 
who  thought  tliey  saw.§  One  day,  his  harshness  to- 
wards the  temple  drew  from  him  imprudent  words: 
^‘This  temple,  made  with  hands,  said  he,  I can,  if  I 
will,  destroy  it,  and  in  three  days  I will  rebuild  of  it 
another,  not  made  with  hands.”^  We  know  not  well 
what  sense  Jesus  attached  to  these  words,  in  which  hia 
disciples  endeavored  to  discover  far-fetched  allegories. 
But  as  a pretext  onl}^  was  desired,  this  expression  waa 

♦ There  is  here  a slight  confusion,  which  is  found  in  the  Targum  of  Jonathan 
(Z/CM»€n<.,  II,  20)  between  Zach^irias,  the  son  or  Jehoiada,  and  Zacharias,  the 
ion  of  Barachias  the  prophet.  It  is  of  the  first  that  mention  is  made  (II  Chron., 
txiv,  21).  The  book  of  Chronicles,  in  which  the  assassination  of  Zacharias,  the 
ion  of  Jehoiada,  is  related,  closes  the  Hebrew  canon.  This  murder  is  the  last 
in  the  list  of  murders  of  just  men,  arranged  according  to  the  order  in  which  they 
are  presented  in  the  Bible.  That  of  Abel  is,  on  the  other  hand,  the  first 
+ Matt,  xxiii,  2-36;  Mark,  xii,  3840;  Luke,  xi,  39-52;  xx,  46-47. 
f Matt. , VIII , 1 1-12 ; XX,  1 seqq. ; xxi , 28  seqq. ; 33  seqq. , 43 ; xxii,  1 seqq. ; Mark, 
XII,  1 seqq. ; Luke,  xx,  9 seqq. 

II  Matt.,  xxi,  37  seqq  ; John,  x,  36  seqq.  ^ John,  ix,  39. 

T|  The  most  authentic  form  of  this  appears  to  be  in  Mark,  xiv,  68;  xr,  29 
Ci  John,  II,  19;  Matt.,  xxvi,  61;  xxvii,  40. 


800 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


eagerly  caught  up.  It  will  figure  among  the  reason! 
for  the  sentence  of  Jesus  to  death,  and  will  fall  again 
upon  his  ear  in  the  last  agonies  of  Golgotha.  These 
irritating  discussions  always  ended  in  storms.  The 
"^harisees  cast  stones  at  him,*  in  which  they  only  ex 
cuted  an  article  of  the  Law,  ordering  tliem  to  stone 
without  a hearing  every  prophet,  even  a miracle-work 
er,  who  should  turn  away  the  people  from  their  an- 
cient worsliip.f  At  other  times,  they  called  him  mad 
possessed,  a Samaritan,:|:  or  sought  even  to  kill  him.| 
They  took  note  of  his  words  to  invoke  against  him  the 
laws  of  an  intolerant  theocracy,  which  the  Roman  do 
mination  had  not  yet  abrogated. § 

♦ John,  VIII,  39;  X,  31;  XI,  8. 

t Deut..  XIII,  1 seqq.  Comp  Luke,  xx,  6;  John,  x,  33;  II  Cor.,  xi,  26. 

I John,  X,  20  I Joan,  v,  18;  vii,  1, 20, 26, 30;  vm,  87  4i 

\ Lake,  zi,  63-64. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


301 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

BACHIVATIONS  OF  THB  ENEMIES  OF  JB8V8. 

Jesus  passed  the  antiimn  and  a part  of  the  winter  at 
Jerusalem.  This  season  is  rather  cold  there.  Solo- 
mon’s porch,  with  its  covered  galleries,  was  the  place 
where  he  walked  habitually.*  This  porch  was  com- 
posed of  two  galleries,  formed  by  three  rows  of  col- 
umns, and  covered  with  a ceiling  of  carved  wood.f  It 
overlooked  the  valley  of  Cedron,  which  was  undoubt 
edly  less  encumbered  with  ruins  than  it  is  at  the  pres- 
ent day.  The  eye,  from  the  hight  of  the  porch,  could 
not  reach  the  bottom  of  the  ravine,  and  it  seemed,  from 
the  steepness  of  the  slope,  that  an  abyss  opened  per- 
pendicularly beneath  the  wall4  The  other  side  of  the 
valley  already  possessed  its  ornamentation  of  sumptu- 
ous tombs.  Some  of  the  monuments  which  are  seen 
there  at  this  day,  are  perhaps  those  cenotaphs  in  hon- 
or of  the  ancient  prophets  I which  Jesus  pointed  at 
w:th  his  finger,  when,  seated  under  the  porch,  he 
hurled  his  anathemas  at  the  official  classes,  who  shel- 

* John,  X,  23. 

idos..,B  J:  V,  V,  2.  Comp. XV, XI,  6;  XX,  IX,  7. 

Jos.,  places  cited. 

See  above,  p 298.  I am  led  to  believe  that  the  tombs  said  to  be  those  of 
Zacharias  and  of  Absalom  were  monuments  of  this  kind.  Cf.  Itin,  a Burdig 
Bierus  . p.  153  (edit.  Schott.), 


802 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


tered  behind  those  colossal  masses  their  hypocrisy  oi 
their  vanity.* 

At  the  end  of  the  month  of  December,  he  celebrated 
at  Jerusalem  the  festival  established  by  Judas  Macca- 
beus in  memory  of  the  purification  of  the  temple  after 
the  sacrileges  of  Antiochus  Epiphanes.f  They  called 
It  alsc  the  ‘‘Feast  of  the  Lights,’’  because  during  the 
eight  days  of  the  feast  they  kept  lamps  burning  in 
their  houses.:}:  Soon  afterwards  Jesus  undertook  a 

journey  into  Perea  and  upon  the  banks  of  the  Jord*an, 
that  is  to  say,  in  the  same  countries  which  he  had 
visited  some  years  before,  when  he  was  following  the 
school  of  John,!  and  where  he  had  himself  adminis- 
tered baptism.  He  there  found,  it  seems,  some  solace, 
especially  at  Jericho.  This  city,  whether  as  the  com- 
mencement of  a very  important  route,  or  on  account 
of  its  gardens  of  perfumes,  and  its  rich  plantations,§ 
had  a considerable  receipt  of  custom.  The  chief  col- 
lector, Zaccheus,  a rich  man,  desired  to  see  Jesus.^  As 
he  was  of  low  stature,  he  climbed  upon  a sycamore 
tree  near  the  road  which  the  cortege  must  pass.  Jesus 
was  touched  by  this  simplicity  on  the  part  of  a person 
of  consideration.  He  went  to  the  house  of  Zaccheus, 
at  the  risk  of  producing  scandal.  There  was  much 
murmuring,  indeed,  at  seeing  him  honor  with  a visit 
the  house  of  a sinner.  On  taking  leave  Jesus  declared 
his  host  a good  son  of  Abraham.  And  as  if  to  spite 
Uie  orthodox,  Zaccheus  became  a Saint : he  gave,  it  is 

• Matt.,  XXIII,  29;  Luke,  xi,  47. 

t John,  X,  22.  Comp.  I Macc.,  iv,  52  seqq.;  II  Macc.,  j,  6 seqq. 

t Jos. , .Jni. , XII , VII , 7. 

I John,  X,  40.  Cf.  Matt.,  XIX,  2;  Mark,  x,  1.  This  journey  is  known  to  the 
synoptics.  But  they  seem  to  believe  that  Jesus  made  it  coming  from  Galilee  t« 
Jerusalem  by  way  of  Perea. 

S Eccl;,  XXIV,  8;  Strabo,  XVI,  ii,  41;  Justin,  xxxfi,  3;  Jos.,  Ant.y  IV,  ▼!,  1 
XIV,  TV,  1;  XV,  IV,  2. 

<9  luke,  XIX,  1 seqq 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


303 


BaiJ,  the  half  of  his  goods  to  the  poor,  and  repaired 
twofold  the  wrongs  which  he  had  committed.  This 
was  not,  however,  the  only  good  fortune  of  Jesus.  On 
gcnng^ut  of  the  city,  the  beggar  Bartimeus*  gave  him 
great  ^ pleasure  by  persisting  in  calling  him  the  ‘‘son 
of  David, although  he  was  bidden  to  be  silent.  Tlic 
cycle  of  the  Galilean  miracles  seemed  for  a moment  to 
open  again  in  this  country,  which  many  analogies  as 
sociate  with  the  provinces  of  the  North.  The  delight- 
ful oasis  of  Jericho,  then  well  watered,  must  have  been 
01J6  of  the  most  beautiful  places  in  Syria.  Josephus 
speaks  of  it  with  the  same  admiration  as  of  Galilee, 
and  calls  it  as  he  does  this  last  province,  a “ divine 
country.'’f 

Jesus,  after  having  fulfilled  this  species  of  pilgrim- 
age to  the  localities  of  his  first  prophetic  activity,  re- 
turned to  his  cherished  abode  at  Bethany,  where  oc- 
curred a singular  event  which  seems  to  have  had  de- 
cisive consequences  upon  the  end  of  his  life.:}:  Wearied 
out  by  the  ill  reception  with  which  the  kingdom  of 
God  met  in  the  capital,  the  friends  of  Jesus  desired  a 
great  miracle  which  should  have  a powerful  effect  up- 
on Hierosolymite  incredulity.  The  resurrection  of  a 
man  well  known  at  Jerusalem  would  be  more  con- 
vincing than  anything  else.  We  must  recollect  here 
that  the  essential  condition  of  true  criticism  is  to  com- 
prehend the  diversity  of  periods,  and  to  lay  aside  thos 
instinctive  repugnances  which  are  the  fruits’of  a purely 
national  education.  We  must  also  recollect  that  in 
this  impure  and  oppressive  city  of  Jerusalem  Jesus 
Was  no  longer  himself.  His  conscience  by  the  fault 

* Matt.,  XX,  29;  Mark,  x,  46  seqq. ; Luke,  xviii,  35. 

t B.  VIII,  3.  Comp.  ibid..  I vi,  6;  I,  xviii,  5 and  AfU..  XV,  IT,  S. 

} John,  XI,  1 seqq. 


304 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


of  men.  and  not  by  his  own,  had  lost  something  of  Ua 
primitive  clearness.  Desperate,  pushed  to  extrem- 
ities, he  no  longer  retained  possession  of  himself.  Hig 
mission  imposed  itself  upon  him,  and  he  obeyed  the 
torrent.  As  always  happens  in  great  and  divine  ca 
eers,  he  suffered  the  miracles  which  public  opinion 
demanded  of  him,  rather  than  performed  them.  A t 
the  distance  at  which  we  are,  and  in  the  presence  of  a 
single  text,  presenting  evident  trac'es  of  artifices  of 
composition,  it  is  impossible  to  decide  whether,  in  the 
present  case,  the  whole  is  a fiction  or  whether  a real 
event  occurring  at  Bethany  served  as  a basis  for  the 
rumors  which  were  bruited  abroad.  We  must  recog- 
nize, however,  that  the  character  of  the  narrative  of 
John  is,  in  some  respects,  entirely  different  from  that 
of  the  stories  of  miracles,  the  offspring  of  popular  im- 
agination, which  fill  the  synoptic  gospels.  Let  us  add 
that  John  is  the  only  Evangelist  who  has  any  precise 
knowledge  of  the  relations  of  Jesus  with  the  family  of 
Bethany,  and  that  it  is  hard  to  understand  how  a popu- 
lar creation  should  have  come  to  take  its  place  in  a 
framework  of  recollections  so  entirely  personal.  It 
seems,  therefore,  probable,  that  the  prodigy  in  question 
was  not  one  of  those  purely  legendary  miracles  for 
which  no  one  is  responsible.  In  other  words,  we  think 
that  something  took  place  at  Bethany  which  was  re- 
garded as  a resurrection. 

Fame  already  attributed  to  Jesus  two  or  three  event! 

this  kind.*  The  family  of  Bethany  may  have  beei 
.ed,  almost  without  suspecting  it,  to  the  impcrtant  ac 
which  was  desired.  Jesus  was  there  adored.  It  seem 
that  Lazarus  was  sick,  and  that  it  was  indeed  in  con 

* Matt.,  IX,  18  seqq.;  Mark,  v,  22  seqq  ; Luk^,  vii,  11  seqq.;  viii,  41  seqq 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


3T)f» 


Beqneiice  of  a message  from  his  alarmed  sisters,  that 
Jesus  left  Perea,*  The  joy  of  his  ooming  miglit  recall 
Lazarus  to  life.  Perhaps  also  the  ardent  desire  to 
close  the  mouth  of  those  who  furiously  denied  the  di 
vine  mission  of  their  friend,  may  have  carried  these 

nthusiastic  persons  beyond  all  bounds.  Perhape 
Lazarus,  still  pale  from  his  sickness,  caused  himself  to 
be  swathed  in  grave  clothes,  as  one  dead,  and  shut  up 
in  his  family  tomb.  These  tombs  were  large  cham- 
bers cut  in  the  rock,  into  which  they  entered  through 
a square  opening  which  was  closed  by  an  enormous 
flat  stone.  Martha  and  Mary  came  out  to  meet  Je- 
sus, and,  without  permitting  him  to  enter  Bethany, 
conducted  him  to  the  sepulchre.  The  emotion  which 
Jesus  experienced  at  the  tomb  of  his  friend,  whom  he 
thought  dead,f  may  have  been  mistaken  by  the  wit- 
nesses for  that  groaning,  that  trembling;]:  which  accom- 
panies miracles  ; popular  opinion  holding  that  the  di- 
vine virtue  is  in  man  an  element,  as  it  were,  epilep 
tic  and  convulsive.  Jesus,  (still  following  the  hypoth 
esis  above  enunciated,)  desired  to  see  once  more  him 
whom  he  had  loved,  and,  the  stone  having  been  re 
moved,  Lazarus  came  forth  with  his  grave  clothes  and 
his  head  bound  about  with  a napkin.  This  apparition 
ID  list  naturally  have  been  regarded  by  all  as  a resur- 
rection. Faith  knows  no  other  law  than  the  interest 
of  what  it  believes  to  be  the  truth.  The  end  which  it 
pursues  being  ir  its  view  absolutely  holy,  it  makes  no 
scruple  about  invoking  bad  arguments  in  behalf  of  its 
proposition  when  good  ones  do  not  succeed.  If  this 
evidence  is  not  real,  so  many  others  are  ! . . . If  this 
prodigy  is  not  genuine,  so  many  others  have  been ! . . . 

• John,  XI,  3 seqq.  f John,  xi,  35  seqq.  J John,  xi,  33. 


306 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


Thoroiiglily  persuaded  that  Jesus  was  a worker  of  mira* 
cles,  Lazarus  and  his  two  sisters  may  have  aided  the 
performance  of  one,  as  so  many  pious  men,  convinced 
of  the  truth  of  their  religion,  have  sought  to  triumph 
O^er  human  obstinacy  by  means  of  the  weakness  of 
which  they  were  well  aware.  The  state  of  their  coa 
cience  was  that  of  the  Stigmatists,  the  Convulsionists, 
the  Obsessed  nuns,  led  on  by  the  influence  of  the  world 
in  which  they  live  and  by  their  own  belief  in  the  pre- 
tended acts.  As  to  Jesus,  he  had  no  more  power  than 
St.  Bernard,  or  St.  Francis  d’ Assisi  to  moderate  the 
avidity  of  the  multitude  and  of  his  own  disciples  for 
the  marvellous.  Death,  moreover,  was  in  a few  days 
to  restore  to  him  his  divine  liberty  and  to  snatch  him 
from  the  fatal  necessities  of  a character  which  became 
each  day  more  exacting,  more  diflScult  to  sustain. 
Everything  seems  to  lead  to  the  belief,  indeed,  that  the 
miracle  of  Bethany  contributed  directly  to  hasten  the 
death  of  Jesus.*  Those  who  had  witnessed  it  went 
through  the  city,  and  spoke  much  of  it.  The  disciples 
related  the  act  with  scenic  details  arranged  with  a 
view  to  augment  its  effect.  The  other  miracles  of 
Jesus  were  incidental  acts  accepted  spontaneously  by 
faith,  magnified  by  popular  fame,  and  which,  when 
passed,  were  not  reexamined.  This  was  really  an 
event  for  which  public  notoriety  was  claimed,  and  b 
which  they  hoped  to  close  the  mouths  of  the  Phari 
^es.f  The  enemies  of  Jesus  were  greatly  irritated  a 
all  Ibis  fame.  Tliey  tried,  it  is  said,  to  kill  Lazarus.J 
It  is  certain  that  immediately  a council  was  assembled 
by  the  chief  priests,!  and  that  in  this  council  the  ques 


• John,  XI,  46  seqq. ; xii,  2,  9 scqq.;  17  seqq. 

^ John,  XII  9-10,17-18.  {John,  XII  16 


I John,  XI,  47  seqf 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


307 


tion  was  distinctly  put : Whether  Jesus  and  Ju* 

daism  could  both  live  To  put  the  question  waa 
to  answer  it,  and  without  being  a prophet,  as  the 
Evangelist  has  it,  the  high  priest  might  very  well  pro- 
nounce his  bloody  axiom  : “ It  is  expedient  that  on 
man  should  die  for  the  whole  people.’’ 

“ The  high  priest  for  that  year,”  to  borrow  an  expres 
ion  of  the  fourth  evangelist,  which  well  exhibits  the 
degraded  condition  to  which  the  sovereign  pontificate 
had  then  fallen,  was  Josepli  Caiaphas,  appointed  by 
Yalerius  Gratus,  and  wholly  devoted  to  the  liomans. 
Since  Jerusalem  had  been  governed  by  the  procu- 
rators, the  office  of  high  priest  had  become  subject 
to  removal;  dismissal  from  it  happened  almost  every 
year.*  Caiaphas,  nevertheless,  maintained  himself 
longer  than  the  rest.  He  was  installed  in  his  charge 
in  the  year  25,  and  did  not  lose  it  until  the  year  36. 
We  know  nothing  of  his  character.  Many  circum- 
stances lead  to  the  belief  that  his  power  was  merely 
nominal.  Beside  and  above  him,  indeed,  we  always 
see  another  personage,  who  appears  to  have  exercised, 
at  the  decisive  moment  which  we  are  considering,  a 
preponderating  power. 

This  personage  was  the  father-indaw  of  Caiaphas, 
Hanan  or  Annas, f son  of  Seth,  the  old  deposed  high 
priest,  who  in  the  midst  of  this  instability  of  the  pon- 
tificate, really  retained  all  its  authority.  Hanan  ha 
•eceived  the  high  priesthood  from  the  legate  Quirinius 
n the  year  7 of  our  era.  He  lost  his  functions  in  the 
year  14  on  the  advent  of  Tiberius ; but  he  was  stil 
very  highly  respectea.  He  continued  to  be  called 

♦ Jos.yArU.,  XV,  III,  1;  XVIII^  ii,  2;  v,  3-  XX^x,  1,  4 
f The  Ananm  of  Josephus.  It  is  thus  thai  the  Hebrew  name  Johanan  becamf 
in  Greek  Joannes  or  Joannas 


308 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


high  priest,”  although  he  was  out  of  office,*  and  to 
be  consulted  upon  all  important  questions.  For  fifty 
years,  the  pontificate  remained  almost  without  inter- 
Tuption  in  his  family  : five  of  his  sons  successively  as- 
timed  that  dignity, t without  counting  Caiaphas,  who 
^as  his  son  in-law.  It  was  what  was  called  the  “ priest 
y Family,”  as  if  in  it  the  priesthood  had  become  he 
reditary.:}:  The  higher  duties  of  the  temple  also,  al 
most  wholly  devolved  on  them.||  Another  family,  it 
is  true,  alternated  with  that  of  Hanan  in  the  pontifi- 
cate; the  family  of  Boethas.§  But  the  Boethusim^ 
who  owed  the  origin  of  their  fortune  to  a cause  in  no 
wise  honorable,  were  far  less  esteemed  by  the  pious 
citizens.  Hanan  was,  therefore,  really  the  head  of  the 
sacerdotal  party.  Oaiaphas  did  nothing  except  through 
him;  it  had  become  a custom  to  associate  their  names, 
and  that  of  Hanan  indeed  always  had  the  first  place.^ 
It  is  easy  to  comprehend  that  under  this  regime  of  a 
pontificate,  annual  and  changed  according  to  the  ca- 
price of  the  pro-consuls,  an  old  pontifi*,  who  had  kept 
the  secret  of  the  traditions,  had  witnessed  the  succes- 
sion of  many  fortunes  younger  than  his  own,  and  pre- 
served credit  enough  to  have  the  power  delegated  to 
persons  wffio  were  subordinate  to  him  in  the  family 
relation,  must  have  been  a very  important  personage. 
Like  the  aristocracy  of  the  temple,**  he  was  a Saddu 
cee,  a ‘^sect,”  says  Josephus,  particularly  severe  in 
their  judgments.”  All  his  sons  were  also  ardent  per 
^cutors.ff  One  of  them,  named,  like  his  fathei 

♦ John,  xTiii,  15-23;  iv,  6.  f Jos.,  Ant,  XX  iz  1 

t Jos.,  ^ni.,  xy,  III,  1;  B J.,  lY,  v;  6 and  7;  Ads,  it,  6. 

I Jos  , Ant.,  XX,  IX,  3. 
i Jo8.,  Ant.,  XV,  IX,  3;  XIX,  vi,  2;  Tin,  1. 

Y Luke,  III,  2.  Ad$,  r,  17 

^ Jw,,Ant.,XX,  IX,  1. 


LIFE  D¥  Ji:SUS. 


309 


flanan,  caused  James,  a brother  of  the  Lord,  to  ba 
etoned,  under  circumstances  which  are  not  without 
analogy  to  the  death  of  Jesus.  The  spirit  of  the  fam- 
ily was  haughty,  bold,  and  cruel;*  it  had  that  peculiar 
80it  of  disdainful  and  suspicious  malignity  which  char 
ncterizes  Jewish  politics.  Thus  it  is  upon  Hanan  and 
hie  relatives  that  should  rest  the  responsibility  of  all 
the  acts  which  are  to  follow.  It  was  Hanan  (or  the 
party  which  he  represented)  who  killed  Jesus.  Hanan 
was  the  principal  actor  in  this  terrible  drama,  and  far 
more  than  Caiaphas,  more  even  than  Pilate,  he  should 
have  borne  the  weight  of  the  maledictions  of  humanity. 

In  the  mouth  of  Caiaphas  it  is  that  the  Evangelist 
places  the  decisive  declaration  which  led  to  the  sen- 
tence of  death  upon  Jesus. f It  was  supposed  that  the 
high  priest  possessed  a certain  gift  of  prophecy  ; the 
declaration  became  thus  to  the  Christian  community 
an  oracle  full  of  deep  meaning.  But  this  declaration, 
whoever  may  have  pronounced  it,  was  the  thought  of 
the  whole  sacerdotal  party.  This  party  was  very 
strongly  opposed  to  popular  seditions.  It  sought  to 
check  religious  enthusiasts,  logically  foreseeing  that  by 
their  exalted  preaching,  they  would  lead  to  ♦the  total 
ruin  of  the  nation.  Although  the  agitation  excited  by 
Jesus  was  in  no  wdse  temporal,  the  priests  saw  as  the 
final  consequence  of  that  agitation,  an  aggravation  of 
the  Roman  yoke,  and  the  fall  of  the  temple,  the  sourc 
of  their  riches  and  their  honors.;};  Certainly  the  cause 
which  were  to  lead,  thirty-seven  years  later,  to  the  de- 
Btruction  of  Jerusalem,  did  not  lie  in  infant  Christianity 
They  existed  in  Jerusalem  itself,  and  not  in  Galilee 
We  cannot  say,  however,  that  the  motive  alleged,  in 

^Jq#  ,XX,iXjl.  t John,  XI, 49-50.  Cf.  iWd., XVIII,  14.  ^Johu,xi,48 


810 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


this  instance,  by  the  priests  was  so  utterly  improbable 
that  it  must  be  accused  of  bad  faith.  In  a general 
sense,  Jesus,  if  he  succeeded,  was  bringing  on,  very 
certainly,  the  ruin  of  the  Jewish  nation.  Starting  from 
principles  accepted  at  the  outset  by  all  ancient  polity, 
[Janan  and  Caiaphas  were  right  in  saying:  “Better 
the  death  of  one  man  than  the  ruin  of  a people.’’  This 
reasoning  seems  to  us  detestable.  But  this  reasoning 
has  been  that  of  all  conservative  parties  from  the  ori- 
gin of  human  societies.  “ The  party  of  order  ” (I  use 
this  expression  in  the  mean  and  narrow  sense)  has  al- 
ways been  the  same.  Thinking  that  the  final  word  of 
government  is  to  check  popular  emotions,  it  believes 
that  it  is  doing  an  act  of  patriotism  when  it  prevents 
by  juridical  murder  the  tumultuous  effusion  of  blood. 
Little  thoughtful  of  the  future,  it  dreams  not  that  by 
declaring  war  against  all  progress,  it  runs  the  risk  of 
wounding  the  idea  which  is  destined,  some  day,  to  tri- 
umph. The  death  of  Jesus  was  one  of  the  thousand 
applications  of  this  polity.  The  movement  which  he 
directed,  was  altogether  spiritual ; but  it  was  a move- 
ment; and  for  that  alone  the  men  of  order,  convinced 
that  the  one  thing  needful  for  humanity  is  not  to  be 
agitated,  must  prevent  the  new  spirit  from  spreading. 
Never  has  been  seen  by  a more  striking  example  how 
such  conduct  defeats  its  end.  Left  free,  Jesus  would 
tave  exhausted  himself  in  a hopeless  struggle  against 
file  impossible.  The  unintelligent  hatred  of  his  ene- 
mies, determined  the  success  of  his  work,  and  put  the 
seal  upon  his  divinity. 

The  death  of  Jesus  was  thus  resolved  upcn  ia  the 
month  of  February  or  the  beginning  of  March.*  Bui 

♦ John,  XI,  53. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


311 


Jesns  escape  ’ for  some  time  longer.  He  withdrew  to 
a city  but  litt.e  known,  called  Ephraim  or  Ephron,  in 
the  direction  of  Bethel,  a short  day’s  journey  from  Je- 
rusalem.* He  remained  there  for  some  days  with  liia 
disciples,  allowing  the  storm  to  pass  over.  But  orders 
for  his  arrest  so  soon  as  he  should  be  found  in  Jerusa 
/ern,  had  been  given.  The  solemnity  of  the  passover 
was  approaching,  and  it  was  thought  that  Jesus,  ac- 
cording to  his  custom,  would  come  to  celebrate  this 
festival  at  Jerusalem.f 

* John,  Ki,  54.  Qf.II Chron.^  xiii,  19;  Jos.,  B.  J.,  IV,  ix,  9;  Eusebius  and  St. 
3 erome,  Be  situ  dnom.  loc.  at  the  words  ’E<ppd)V  and 

t John,  XI,  55-56.  For  the  order  of  occurrences,  in  all  this  portion,  we  follow 
the  narrative  of  John.  The  synoptics  do  not  seem  well  inforn^d  conceniD|| 
tfeat  period  of  the  life  of  Jesus  which  preceded  the  passion. 


312 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITT. 


CHAPTER  XXIH. 

TEB  LAST  WEEK  OF  JESTS. 

He  set  out,  iu  fact,  with  his  disciples,  to  visit  for  the 
last  time  the  unbelieving  city.  The  hopes  of  his  fol- 
lowers became  more  and  more  exalted.  All  believed, 
in  going  up  to  Jerusalem,  that  the  kingdom  of  God 
was  there  to  be  manifested.*  The  impiety  of  men  be- 
ing at  its  acme,  was  a mighty  sign  that  the  consumma- 
tion was  near.  Their  conviction  of  this  was  such,  that 
they  already  disputed  with  each  other  the  precedence 
in  the  kingdom. f This  was,  it  is  said,  the  moment 
which  Salome  chose  to  ask  for  lier  sons  the  seats  on 
the  right  and  on  tho  left  of  the  Son  of  man.;]:  The 

master,  on  the  contrary,  was  occupied  with  grave 
thoughts.  Sometimes  he  suffered  to  escape  a gloomy 
feeling  of  resentment  towards  his  enemies  ; he  related 
the  parable  of  a nobleman,  who  goes  into  a far  coun- 
i try  to  receive  a kingdom  and  to  return ; but  hardly 
‘ has  he  departed  when  his  citizens  will  have  him  no 
more.  The  king  returns,  orders  before  him  those  who 
have  desired  that  he  should  not  reign  over  them,  and 

• Luke,  XIX,  n.  t Luke,  xxii,  24  seqq. 

I Kfttt.,  XX,  20  seqq. ; Mark,  x,  85  seqq. 


UFE  OF  JESUS. 


313 


C'tinmanded  tliein  all  to  be  put  to  death.*  At  other 
times  he  rudely  destroyed  the  illusions  of  his  disciples 
As  they  were  traA^eling  over  the  rocky  roads  north  of 
Jerusalem,  Jesus  walked  thoughtfully  at  the  head  of 
the  group  of  his  companions.  All  looked  upon  him 
in  silence,  with  a sentiment  of  awe,  not  daring  to  ques 
lion  him.  Already,  on  various  occasions,  he  had  spo- 
ken to  them  of  his  future  sufferings,  and  they  had 
listened  unwillingly.f  Jesus  finally  broke  the  si- 
lence, and,  no  longer  concealing  his  presentiments, 
he  spoke  to  them  openly  of  his  approaching  end.J 
There  was  great  sadne-s  in  all  the  company.  The  dis- 
ciples w^ere  expecting  soon  to  see  the  sign  appear  in 
the  clouds.  The  inaugural  cry  of  the  kingdom  of 
God “ Blessed  be  he  who  cometh  in  the  name  of  the 
Lord,”  already  rang  through  the  throng  in  joyous  ac- 
cents. This  bloody  perspective  disturbed  them.  At 
each  step  of  the  fatal  jomney,  the  kingdom  of  God 
drew  near  or  fied  away  in  the  mirage  of  their  dreams. 
As  for  him,  he  became  confirmed  in  the  thought  that 
he  was  about  to  die,  but  that  this  death  would  save 
the  world, § the  misunderstanding  between  him  and 
his  disciples  widened  every  moment. 

It  was  the  custom  to  come  up  to  Jerusalem  some 
days  before  the  Passover,  in  order  to  prepare  for  it.  Je- 
sus arrived  after  the  rest,  and  for  a moment  his  ene- 
mies thought  themselves  frustrated  in  their  hope  of 
seizing  hirn.^*  On  the  sixth  day  before  the  feast  (Sat 
urday  the  8th  of  Nisan,  March  28th),**  he  finally  ar- 

♦ Luke,  xtx,  12  27.  t , xvi,  21  seqq. ; Mark,  viii,  31  seqq 

t Matt. , XX,  17  seqq. ; Mark,  x,  31  seqq  ; Luke,  xviii,  31  seqq. 

I Matt.',  xxiii,  39;  Luke,  XIII,  35. 

^ Matt. , XX,  28.  ^ John,  XI,  56. 

w*  The  passover  was  celebrated  on  the  fourteenth  of  Nisan.  Now,  in  the  J9U 
18,  the  first  of  Nisan  corresponded  to  Saturday,  March  21st. 

14 


814 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


rived  at  Bethany.  He  stopped,  as  was  his  custom,  at 
the  house  of  Lazarus,  Martha  and  Mary,  or  that  of  Si 
mon  the  Leper.  They  gave  him  a grand  reception. 
There  was  at  the  house  of  Simon  the  Leper*  a dinner 
at  which  a large  number  of  persons  were  assembled 
ttracted  by  the  desire  to  see  him,  and  also  to  see  Laz- 
arus, of  whom  so  many  things  had  been  related  for 
Borne  days  past.  Lazarus  was  seated  at  a table,  and  at- 
tracted the  attention  of  all.  Martha  served  accord^ 
ing  to  her  custom. f It  seems  as  though  they  sought 
by  an  increase  of  the  external  manifestations  of  res 
pect  to  overcome  the  coldness  of  the  public  and  to 
signalize  decidedly  the  high  dignity  of  the  guest  whom 
they  were  entertaining.  Mary,  in  order  to  give  the 
repast  a more  festal  appearance,  entered  during  the 
dinner,  bearing  a vase  of  perfume,  which  she  poured 
upon  the  feet  of  Jesus.  Then  she  broke  the  vase,  ac- 
cording to  an  ancient  usage  which  was  to  destroy  the 
vessels  used  in  seiving  a stranger  of  distinction. ;j:  Fi- 

nally, carrying  the  manifestations  of  her  worship  to 
extremes  hitherto  unknown,  she  prostrated  herself  and 
wiped  the  feet  of  her  master  with  her  long  hair.j 
The  whole  house  was  filled  with  the  pleasant  odor  of 
the  perfume,  to  the  great  joy  of  all,  except  the  avari- 
cious Judas  of  Kerioth.  Considering  the  economical 
liabits  of  the  community,  it  really  was  prodigality 
Tho  greedy  treasurer  calculated  at  once  for  how  much 
the  perfume  might  have  been  sold,  and  what  it  would 

* Matt.,  XXVI,  6;  Mark,  xiv,  3.  Cf.  Luke,  vii,  40, 43-44. 
t It  is  very  common  in  the  East,  that  a person  who  is  attached  to  yon  by  a 
bond  of  affection  or  of  domesticity  should  go  tc  serve  you  when  you  go  out  to 
dine. 

X 1 have  seen  this  custom  still  practiced  at  Sour. 

I We  must  remember  that  the  feet  of  the  guests  were  not,  as  among  us,  con. 
eealed  under  the  table,  but  extended  level  with  the  bod  * upon  the  divan  Of 
trktiimum. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


315 


have  produced  for  the  poor.  This  sentiment  devoid 
of  affection,  which  seemed  to  place  something  else  above 
himself,  was  displeasing  to  Jesus.  He  was  fond  of 
lionors  ; for  honors  served  his  purpose  and  established 
Ids  title  as  the  Son  of  David.  So  when  they  spoke  to 
him  of  the  poor,  he  replied  rather  sharply : the  poor 

ye  have  always  with  you,  but  me  ye  have  not  al* 
ways.”  And  rising  to  exaltation,  he  promised  immor- 
tality to  the  woman  who  at  this  critical  moment  gave 
him  a pledge  of  love.* 

The  next  day  (Sunday,  the  9th  of  Nisan),  Jesus  went 
down  from  Bethany  to  Jerusalem. f When,  at  a turn 
of  the  road,  upon  the  summit  of  the  Mount  of  Olives, 
he  saw  the  city  spread  out  before  him,  it  is  said  that 
he  wept  over  it,  and  addressed  to  it  a last  appeal.:}:  At 
the  foot  of  the  mountain,  not  far  from  the  gate,  enter- 
ing upon  the  belt  of  land  near  the  eastern  wall  of  the 
city,  which  was  called  Bethphage,  doubtless  from  the 
fig  trees  with  which  it  was  planted,!  he  had  yet  another 
moment  of  human  satisfaction,§  The  news  of  his  ar- 
rival had  spread  abroad.  The  Galileans  who  had  come 
to  the  feast  were  rejoiced,  and  prepared  him  a modest 
triumph.  They  brought  him  a she  ass,  followed,  as 
usual,  by  her  colt.  The  Galileans  spread  their  finest 
garments  in  the  way  of  housings  upon  this  poor  beast, 
and  made  him  sit  thereon.  Others,  moreover,  spread 
their  vestments  along  the  road,  and  strewed  it  with 

• Matt,  XXVI,  6 seqq.;  Mark,  xiv,  3 seqq.;  John,  xi,  2;  xii,  2 seq^  Comp 
Luke,  VII,  36  seqq. 

+ John,  XII,  12.  J Luke,  xix,  41  seqq. 

I Mischna,  Menachoth,  xi,  2;  Talm.  of  Bab. , Sanli^rin,  14  d;  Pesaxihim^ 63  6,  91  a. 
Seta,  45  a;  Baba  metsia,S'^  a.  It  results  from  these  passages  that  Bethi.  ^^ge  was 
a sort  of  pomoerium,  which  extended  to  the  foot  of  the  eastern  foundat'  in  of  the 
temple,  and  which  also  had  its  own  wall  of  enclosure.  The  passages  #tt..  xxi 
1,  Luke,  XIX,  29,  do  not  exactly  imply  that  Bethphage  was  a village,  a ^ iisebiui 
and  St.  Jerome  have  supposed. 

^ Matt. , XXI,  1 seqq. ; Mark,  xi,  I seqq. ; Luke,  xix,  29  seqq. ; J ohn,  i «.■  12 


316 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


green  boughs.  The  miiltitmle  tliat  went  before  and 
that  followed  bearing  palms,  cried  : ‘‘Hosanna  to  the 
eon  of  David.  Blessed  is  he  that  coineth  in  the  name 
of  the  Lord !”  Some  persons  even  went  so  far  as  to 
give  him  the  title  of  “king  of  Israel.”*  “Rabbi,  m^ke 
them  hold  their  peace,”  said  the  Pharisees  to  him 
“If  they  should  hold  their  peace,  the  stones  would  cry 
out,”  replied  Jesus,  and  he  entered  the  city.  The 
Hierosolymites,  who  scarcely  knew  him,  asked  who  he 
was:  “This  is  Jesus  the  prophet  of  Nazareth  and  Gal- 
ilee,” was  the  reply.  Jerusalem  was  a city  of  about 
fifty  thousand  souls.f  A little  event,  like  the  entrance 
of  a stranger  of  celebrity,  or  the  arrival  of  a band  of 
provincials,  or  a movement  of  the  ])eople  in  the  aven- 
ues of  the  town,  could  not  fail,  under  ordinary  circum- 
stances, to  be  soon  noised  about.  But  at  the  time  of 
the  feasts,  the  confusion  was  extreme. :{:  Jerusalem, 

on  those  days,  belonged  to  strangers.  It  is,  therefore, 
among  them  that  the  commotion  appears  to  have  been 
greatest.  Some  proselytes  who  spoke  Greek  and  who 
had  come  to  the  feast,  became  curious,  and  desired  to 
see  Jesus.  They  applied  to  his  disciples;!  it  is  not 
known  what  resulted  from  this  interview.  As  for  Je- 
sus, he  went,  according  to  his  custom,  to  pass  the  night 
in  his  dear  village  of  Bethany. § The  three  following 
days  (Monday,  Tuesday,  and  Wednesday),  he  went 
down  in  the  same  manner  to  Jerusalem;  after  sunset 


* Luke,  XIX,  38;  John,  xii,  13. 

\ The  figure  120,030,  given  bv  Hecateus  (in  Josephus,  Contra  Apionem^  I,  22), 
appears  exaggerated.  (Jicero  speals^  of  Jerusalem  as  a paltry  town  {Ad  AUicum^ 
II , ix).  The  ancient  enclosures,  whatever  system  we  adopt,  could  not  contain  a 
population  quadruple  the  present,  which  is  less  than  15 ,000.  See  Robinson,  BifA 
Ues. , 1 , 421-4.2  (2nd  edition) ; Forgusson,  Topogr  ofJerus. , p.  51 ; F orster,  Syria  osMl 
Palestine,  p.  82. 

r Jos.,  R.  J..  II,  XIV,  3.  fl  John,  xii,  20  seqq. 

\ Matt  Txi,  17;  Mark,  xi,  U. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


317 


lie  returned  either  to  Bethany  or  to  the  farms  on  the 
western  slope  of  the  Mount  of  Olives,  where  he  had 
many  friends.* 

A deep  sadness  appears,  during  these  last  days,  to 
have  filled  the  soul  of  Jesus,  ordinarily  so  cheerful  and 
so  serene.  All  the  recitals  agree,  in  attributing  to 
him,  before  his  arrest,  a moment  of  hesitation  and  ot 
trouble,  a kind  of  anticipated  death-agony.  According 
to  some,  he  cried  out  suddenly:  “Father,  save  me 
from  this  hour.”f  It  was  believed  that  at  that  mo- 
ment, a voice  was  heard  from  heaven ; others  said  that 
an  angel  came  to  console  him.J  According  to  a wide- 
spread version,  this  took  place  in  the  garden  of  Geth- 
semane.  Jesus,  it  is  said,  withdrew  a stone’s  throw 
from  his  sleeping  disciples,  taking  with  him  only  Ce- 
phas and  the  two  sons  of  Zebedee.  Then  he  prayed 
with  his  face  to  the  ground.  His  soul  was  sad  unto 
death ; a terrible  anguish  weighed  upon  him ; but  re- 
signation to  the  divine  will  triumphed.!  This  scene, 
by  virtue  of  that  instinctive  art  which  presided  over 
the  compilations  of  the  synoptics,  and  which  often 
makes  them  obedient  to  considerations  of  propriety  or 
eflfect  in  the  arrangements  of  events,  has  been  assigned 
to  the  last  night  of  Jesus,  and  to  the  moment  of  his 
arrest.  Were  this  the  true  version,  we  could  hardly 
understand  how  John,  who  must  have  been  the  inti- 
mate witness  of  so  moving  an  episode,  should  not  have 
spoken  of  it  in  his  very  circumstantial  account  of  th 
evening  of  Thursday.§  All  that  can  be  said  is,  that 

* Matt.,  XXI,  17-18;  Mark,  xi,  11-12,19;  Luke,  xxi,  37-38. 
y John,  XII,  27  seqq.  We  can  comri^hend  how  the  exaltation  ot  John  and  hii 
exclusive  prepossession  with  the  divine  character  of  Jesus  may  have  effaced  from 
the  recital  the  circumstances  of  natural  weakness  related  by  the  synoptics. 

1 Luke;  xxii,  43;  John,  xii,  28-29. 

I Matt,  XVIII,  36  seqq. , Mark,  xiv,  32  seqq. ; Luke,  xxii,  89  seqq 
I This  would  be  the  more  incomprehensible  since  John  delights  \n  bringing 


318 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


during  his  last  days,  the  immense  burden  of  the  mi^ 
sion  he  had  accepted,  weighed  cruelly  upon  Jesus, 
Iluman  nature  awoke  for  a moment.  lie  began  per 
haps  to  doubt  of  his  work.  Terror,  hesitation  seiirod 
upon  him  and  threw  him  into  a dejection  worse  than 
death.  The  man  who  has  sacrificed  repose  and  th« 
natural  compensations  of  life  to  a great  idea,  expert 
ences  a moment  of  sad  reflection,  when  the  image  ot 
death  presents  itself  to  him  for  the  first  time,  and  seeks 
to  persuade  him  that  all  is  vanity.  Perhaps  some  one 
of  those  touching  recollections  which  even  the  strong- 
est souls  preserve,  and  which  at  times  pierce  them  like 
the  sword,  came  to  him  at  this  moment.  Did  he  recall 
the  clear  fountains  of  Galilee  where  he  might  have  re- 
freshed himself ; the  vineyard  and  fig-tree  under  which 
he  might  have  been  seated;  the  young  maidens  who 
might  perhaps  have  consented  to  love  him?  Did  he 
curse  his  bitter  destiny,  which  had  forbidden  to  him 
the  joys  conceded  to  all  others?  Did  he  regret  his  too 
lofty  nature,  and,  the  victim  of  his  own  grandeur,  did 
he  weep  because  he  had  not  remained  a simple  artizan 
of  Nazareth?  We  know  not.  For  all  these  interior 
agitations  were  evidently  a sealed  book  to  his  disciples. 
They  comprehended  nothing,  and  supplied  by  artless 
conjectures  whatever  was  obscure  to  them  in  the  great 
soul  of  their  master.  It  is  certain,  at  least,  that  his 
divine  nature  soon  resumed  the  ascendancy.  He  migh 
still  have  avoided  death  ; he  would  not.  The  love  of 
bis  work  gained  the  victory.  He  accepted  the  draught 
of  the  cup  even  unto  the  lees.  From  this  time,  indeed, 
Jesus  is  again  complete  and  without  a cloud.  The 

out  those  circumstances  which  are  personal  to  him,  or  of  which  he  was  the  sols 
witness  (XIII,  23  seqq.;  xyiii,  15  seqq.  ; xix  26  seqq.  35;  xx,  2 seqq.;  xxi,  91 
■eqq.). 


LIFE  OF  JEfeOS. 


31S 


subtleties  of  tlie  polemic,  the  credulity  of  the  thau- 
matnrgist  and  the  exorcist  are  forgotten.  Nothing  re- 
mains but  the  incomparable  hero  of  the  Passion,  the 
founder  of  the  rights  of  free  conscience,  the  perfec 
mode!  upon  which  all  suffering  souls  shall  meditate  foi* 
strength  and  consolation. 

The  triumph  of  Bethphage,  this  audacity  ot  proviii 
cials  celebrating  the  advent  of  their  King-Messiah  at 
the  gates  of  Jerusalem,  completed  the  exasperation  of 
the  Pharisees  and  the  aristocracy  of  the  temple.  A 
new  council  was  held  on  Wednesday,  (the  12th  of  Ni- 
san,)  at  the  house  of  Joseph  Oaiaphas.*  The  immedi- 
ate arrest  of  Jesus  was  resolved  upon.  A great  re- 
gard for  order  and  for  a conservative  policy  controlled 
all  their  measures.  The  difficulty  was  to  avoid  scan- 
dal. As  the  feast  of  the  Passover,  which  began  that 
year  on  Friday,  was  a time  of  confusion  and  excite- 
ment, it  was  resolved  to  anticipate  those  days.  Jesus 
was  popular  ;f  a mob  was  apprehended.  The  arrest 
was  therefore  fixed  for  Thursday,  the  next  day.  It 
was  determined  also  not  to  seize  him  in  the  temple, 
where  he  came  every  day,:j:  but  to  spy  out  his  habits, 
in  order  to  seize  him  in  some  secret  place.  The  officers 
of  the  priests  sounded  the  disciples,  hoping  to  obtain 
the  needful  information  through  their  w^eakness  or 
through  their  simplicity.  They  found  what  they 
sought  in  Judas  of  Kerioth.  This  wretch,  from  mo- 
tives impossible  to  explain,  betrayed  his  Master,  gave 
all  the  necessary  indications,  and  even  took  upon  him 
self  (although  such  an  excess  of  perfidy  is  hardly  cre- 
aible)  tc  conduct  the  squad  which  was  to  make  th« 

• Matt.,  XXVI,  1-5;  Mark,  xiv,  1>2;  Luke,  xxii,  1-2. 

t Matt.,  XXI,  46.  { Matt.,  xxTi, 


320 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


arrest.  Tlie  memory  of  horror  which  the  folly  or  the 
wickedness  of  this  man  left  to  the  Christian  tradition, 
must  have  led  to  some  exaggeration  in  this.  Judas 
hitherto  had  been  a disciple  with  the  rest ; lie  had 
even  the  title  of  apostle  ; he  had  performed  miracles, 
and  cast  out  demons.  Legend,  which  loves  strong 
colors,  could  only  admit  into  the  cenaculum  eleven 
saints  and  one  reprobate.  Reality  does  not  proceed 
with  such  absolute  discriminations.  Avarice,  which 
the  synoptic  gospels  give  as  the  motive  for  the  crime 
in  question,  is  not  sufficient  to  explain  it.  It  would  be 
strange  tliat  the  man  who  kept  the  purse,  and  who 
knew  what  he  would  lose  by  the  death  of  the  chief, 
should  exchange  the  profits  of  his  occupation*  for  a 
very  trifling  sum  of  money.f  Might  not  Judas  have 
been  wounded  in  his  self-love  by  the  reproof  which  he 
received  at  the  dinner  at  Bethany  ? Yet  this  is  not 
enough.  John  would  make  him  a thief  and  an  un- 
believer from  the  beginning,:}:  a view  which  is  entirely 
improbable.  We  prefer  to  believe  in  some  feeling 
of  jealousy,  some  intestine  dissension.  The  peculiar 
hatred  which  John  exhibits  towards  Judas, ||  confirms 
this  hypothesis.  Of  a heart  less  pure  than  the  rest, 
Judas  may  have  assumed  unconsciously  the  narrow 
sentiments  of  his  office.  By  a mutation  not  uncommon 
in  active  life,  he  may  have  come  to  set  the  interests 
of  the  treasury  above  the  very  work  it  was  intended  ti 
serve.  The  administrator  may  have  killed  the  apos- 
tle. The  murmur  which  escaped  him  at  Bethany 
seems  to  indicate  that  at  times  he  thought  the  mas 
ter  cost  his  spiritual  family  too  dear.  TJndoubtedlj 

* John,  XII,  6.  f John  does  not  even  speak  of  a payment  of  money. 

t John,  Ti,  66*  zii,  6.  S John,  vi,  65,  71-72;  xii,  6;  xiii,  2,  27  seqq 


LIFE  OF  JESUS.  321 

tfa;8  mean  economy  had  caused  other  collisions  in  tlie 
little  society. 

Without  denying  that  Judas  of  Kerioth  may  have 
contributed  to  the  arrest  of  his  master,  we  think, 
therefore,  that  the  maledictions  with  which  he  is  load- 
ed are  in  some  degree  unjust.  His  act  was  perhaps 
more  a blunder  than  a crime.  The  conscience  of  the 
practical  man  is  lively  and  just,  but  unstable  and  illog- 
ical. It  cannot  resist  a sudden  impulse.  The  secret 
societies  of  the  republican  party  contained  much  ear- 
nestness and  sincerity,  and  yet  informers  were  very 
numerous  among  them.  A slight  offence  was  enough 
to  make  a member  a traitor.  But  if  the  foolish  de- 
sire for  a few  pieces  of  silver  turned  the  head  of  poor 
Judas,  it  does  not  seem  that  he  lost  his  moral  sense  en- 
tirely, since  seeing  the  consequences  of  his  fault,  he 
repented,*  and, it  is  said,  killed  himself 

Each  moment,  at  this  period,  becomes  awful,  and 
has  counted  more  than  whole  centuries  in  the  history 
of  humanity.  We  have  reached  Thursday,  the  13th 
of  Kisan,  (April  2d.)  On  the  evening  of  the  next  day 
the  feast  of  the  Passover  commenced  by  the  eating  of 
the  Paschal  lamb.  The  feast  continued  through  the 
seven  following  days,  during  which  the  unleavened 
bread  was  eaten.  Tlie  first  and  the  last  of  these  seven 
days  had  a peculiar  sanctity.  The  disciples  were  al- 
eady  occupied  with  preparations  for  the  feast.f  As  to 
Jesus,  we  are  led  to  believe  that  he  knew  the  treache- 
y of  Judas,  and  that  he  suspected  the  fate  which 
awaited  him.  In  the  evening  he  took  his  last  supper 
with  his  disciples.  It  was  not  the  ritual  feast  of  the 

• Matt.,  xsvn,  3 seqq 

i Matt , xxTi,  1 seqq.  Mark,  xiy,  12;  Luke,  xxii,  7 ; John,  xiii,  20. 


S22 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


Passover,  as  was  afterwards  supposed  ty  a mistake  ol 
one  day;*  but  to  tl)e  primitive  Church  the  supper  of 
Thursday  was  the  true  Passover,  the  seal  of  the  new 
covenant.  All  the  disciples  referred  to  it  their  dear 
est  memories,  and  a multitude  of  touching  incidenti 
which  each  retained  of  the  master,  were  accumulated 
upon  this  repast,  which  became  the  corner-stone  of 
Christian  piety,  and  the  starting-point  of  the  most 
fruitful  institutions. 

Tliere  is  no  doubt,  indeed,  that  the  tender  love 
with  which  the  heart  of  Jesus  was  tilled  for  the  little 
church  that  surrounded  him,  overflowed  at  this 
hour.f  His  serene  and  mighty  soul  was  yet  light  be- 
neath the  weight  of  the  gloomy  thoughts  w^hich  beset 
him.  He  had  a word  for  each  one  of  his  friends.  Two 
among  them,  John  and  Peter,  were  the  special  objects 
of  tender  marks  of  attachment.  John  (at  least  he 
affirms  so)  lay  upon  the  divan  by  the  side  of  Jesus, 
and  his  head  reposed  upon  the  breast  of  the  master. 
Towards  the  end  of  the  meal  the  secret  which  weighed 
upon  Jesus’  heart  almost  escaped  him  : Verily,  said 

he,  1 say  unto  you  that  one  of  you  shall  betray  me.”:j: 
This  was  to  those  simple  men  a moment  of  anguish ; 
they  looked  at  one  another,  and  each  questioned  him- 
self. Judas  was  present  ; perhaps  Jesus,  who  for 
some  time  had  had  reason  to  distrust  him,  sought  by 
this  saying  to  draw  from  his  looks,  or  his  embarrass 
ment,  a confession  of  his  fault.  But  the  unfaithfu 

• This  is  the  arrangement  of  the  synoptics  (Matt.,  xxvi,  17  seqq.;  Mark,  xrv,  1 
seqq.;  Luke,  xxii,  7 seqq.,  15.  But  John,  whose  narrative  has  for  this  portion 
preponderating  authority,  expressly  supposes  that  Jesus  died  the  same  day  ou 
which  the  lamb  was  eaten  (xiii,  1-2,  2»;  xviii,  28;  xix,  '4, 31).  • The  Talmud  alsf 
makes  Jesus  die  on  the  “eve  of  the  Passover.’’  (Talm.of  Bab.,<Sh»Mnn,43a,  67  a). 

+ John,  XIII,  1 seqq. 

X Mati,  XXVI, 21  seqq.;  Mark,  xiv,  18  seqq.;  Luke,  xx, 21  seqq.;  John,  wn,  21 
■eqq  ; xxi,  20 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


823 


disciple  did  not  lose  liis  presence  of  mind  ; he  dared 
even,  it  is  said  to  ask  like  the  rest : Is  it  I,  Rabbi  I” 

Meantime,  the  upright  and  virtuous  soul  of  Petel 
Was  upon  the  rack.  He  made  a sign  to  John  to  en« 
deavor  to  learn  of  whom  the  master  spoke.  John 
wlio  could  converse  with  Jesus  without  being  heard 
asked  him  the  solution  of  this  enigma.  Jesus  having 
nothing  more  than  suspicions,  would  pronounce  no 
name ; he  told  John  merely  to  notice  to  whom  he 
should  give  the  bread  he  was  dipping.  At  the  same 
time,  he  dipped  the  bread  and  offered  it  to  Judas. 
John  and  Peter  alone  understood  this.  Jesus  address- 
ed to  Judas  a few  words  which  contained  a bitter  re- 
proach, but  were  not  comprehended  by  the  rest.  It 
was  supposed  that  Jesus  was  giving  him  orders  for 
the  feast  of  the  morrow,  and  he  went  out.* 

At  the  time,  this  supper  seemed  remarkable  to  no 
one,  and  apart  from  the  apprehensions  which  the  mas- 
ter imparted  to  his  disciples,  who  but  half  understood 
him,  nothing  extraordinary  occurred.  But  after  the 
death  of  Jesus,  a signification  singularly  solemn  was 
attached  to  this  evening,  and  the  imagination  of  be- 
, lievers  spread  over  it  a hue  of  soft  mysticism.  What 
we  remember  best  of  a dear  friend,  is  his  last  days. 
By  an  inevitable  illusion,  we  lend  to  the  conversa- 
tions that  we  then  had  with  him  a meaning  which 
they  have  received  only  from  death;  we  gather  into 
a few  hours  the  memories  of  many  years.  Most  of 
the  disciples  never  saw  their  master  after  the  suppe* 
of  which  we  have  spoken.  It  was  the  farewell  ban 
quet.  At  this  repast,  as  well  as  at  many  others,  Je 

I * 3UII,  21 6eqq.|  which  removes  the  improbability  of  the  narrative  of  tht 


824 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


BUS  practised  his  mysterious  rite  of  the  breaking  of 
bread.  As  it  was  believed  at  an  early  period  that  this 
Bupper  took  place  on  tlie  day  of  the  Passes  er,  and 
was  the  Paschal  feast,  the  idea  naturally  resulted  that 
he  Eucharist  was  instituted  at  this  supreme  hour 
Starting  from  the  hypothesis  that  Jesus  knew  before 
and  the  precise  moment  of  his  death,  the  disciplea 
must  have  been  led  to  suppose  that  he  reserved  for 
his  last  hours  a multitude  of  important  acts.  Moreo- 
ver, as  one  of  the  fundamental  ideas  of  the  first  Chris- 
tians was  that  the  death  of  Jesus  was  a sacrifice,  re- 
placing all  those  of  the  ancient  Law,  the  Last  Sup- 
per,” which  they  supposed  to  have  taken  place  once 
for  all  on  the  evening  before  the  Crucifixion,  became 
the  great  sacrifice,  the  act  of  foundation  of  the  new 
covenant,  the  sign  of  the  blood  shed  for  the  salva- 
tion of  all.*  The  bread  and  the  wine,  taken  in  con- 
nection with  the  death  itself,  were  thus  the  image  of 
the  new  Testament  which  Jesus  had  sealed  with  his 
Bufferings,  the  commemoration  of  the  sacrifice  of  the 
Christ  until  his  coming. f 

At  a very  early  day  this  mystery  was  fixed  in  a 
brief  story  of  the  sacrament,  which  we  possess  under 
four  quite  similar  forms,  if  John,  so  prepossessed  with 
eucharistic  ideas,  | who  narrates  the  last  supper  with 
BO  much  prolixity,  who  attaches  to  it  so  many  circuin- 
tances  and  so  much  discourse  ,§  John,  who  alon 
mong  the  evangelical  narrators,  has  here  the  credi 
ility  of  an  eye  witness,  knows  nothing  of  this  story 
Ihis  is  proof  that  he  did  not  regard  the  institution  of 

♦ Luke,  XXII,  20.  f 1 Cor.,  xi,  26. 

iMatt.,  xxYi,  26-28  Mark,  xiv.  22-24;  Luke,  xxii,  19-21;  ICor.,xi  S3  28 
Ch.  Ti.  k Ch.  xiii-xvii. 


LIFE  OF  JE^^US. 


325 


the  Eucharist  as  a peculiarity  of  tlie  Last  Supper.  To 
him,  tlie  rite  of  the  Last  Suppei  is  the  washing  of  feet. 
It  is  probable  that  in  certain  primitive  Christian  fami- 
lies, this  latter  rite  obtained  an  importance  which  it 
ubsequently  lost.*  Undoubtedly  Jesus,  under  cer- 
tain circumstances,  had  practised  it  in  order  to  give 
his  disciples  a lesson  of  humility.  It  was  referred  to 
the  eve  of  his  death,  in  consequence  of  the  tendency 
to  group  around  the  Last  Supper  all  the  grand  moral 
and  ritual  commands  of  Jesus. 

A lofty  sentiment  of  love,  concord,  charity  and  mu- 
tual deference  animated,  moreover,  the  memories 
which  they  thought  to  preserve  of  the  last  hours  of 
Jesus. t The  unity  of  his  Church  it  is,  constituted  by 
himself  or  by  his  spirit,  which  is  always  the  soul  of  the 
symbols  and  the  discourses  that  Christian  tradition 
refers  to  this  sacred  hour : A new  commandment  I 

give  unto  jmu,  said  he,  tliat  ye  love  one  another  as  I 
have  loved  you.  By  this  shall  all  men  know  that  ye 
are  my  disciples,  if  ye  have  love  one  to  another.  I 
call  you  not  servants;  for  the  servant  knoweth  not 
what  his  lord  doeth:  but  I call  you  my  friends ; for  all 
things  that  I have  heard  of  my  Father,  I have  made 
known  unto  you.  This  I command  you  that  ye  love 
one  another.”:]:  At  this  last  hour,  there  were  still  some 
rivalries,  some  struggles  for  precedence.!  Jesus  ro- 
narked  that  if  he,  the  master,  had  been  among  his 
iisciples  as  their  servant,  how  much  the  more  ought 

• John,  xin,  14-15  Cf.  Matt. , xx,  26  seqq. ; Luke,  xxii,  26  seqq 

i John,  XIII,  1 seqq.  The  discourses  placed  by  John  in  connection  witft  th€ 
narrative  of  the  Supper  cannot  be  taken  as  historical.  They  are  full  of  phraser 
and  expressions  which  are  not  in  the  style  of  the  discourses  of  Jesus,  and  which, 
on  the  contrary,  enter  largely  into  the  habitual  language  of  John.  Thus  thi 
expression  “ little  children”  in  the  vocative  (John,  xiii,  33)  is  very  frequent  ia 
the  first  Epistle  of  J ohn.  It  does  not  appear  to  have  been  familiar  to  J esus. 

t Join,  xii,  33-35*  XV,  12-17.  | Luke,  xxii,  24-27.  Cf.  John,  xiii,  4 seqq 


326 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


they  to  submit  themselves  one  to  another.  According 
to  some,  while  drinking  the  wine,  he  said  : ‘‘I  will  not 
drink  henceforth  of  the  fruit  of  the  vine  until  I drink 
it  new  with  you  in  my  Father’s  kingdom.”**’  Accord- 
ing to  others,  he  promised  them  very  soon  a heavenly 
feast  at  which  they  should  be  seated  upon  thrones  by 
hjs  side.f 

It  seems  that  towards  the  end  of  the  evening  the 
presentiments  of  Jesus  took  possession  of  his  disciples. 
All  felt  that  a serious  danger  menaced  the  master  and 
that  a crisis  was  at  hand.  For  a moment  Jesus 
thought  of  taking  precautions  and  spoke  of  swords. 
There  were  two  in  the  company.  “It  is  enough,” 
said  he4  He  did  not  follow  up  that  idea;  he  saw 
plainly  that  timid  provincials  would  not  hold  out  bO' 
fore  the  armed  force  of  the  great  powers  of  Jerusalem. 
Cephas,  full  of  courage  and  feeling  sure  of  himself, 
swore  that  he  would  go  with  him  to  prison  or  to  death. 
Jesus,  with  his  usual  penetration,  expressed  some 
doubts.  According  to  one  tradition,  which  came 
probably  from  Peter  himself,  Jesus  referred  him  to  the 
crowing  of  the  cock.|  All,  like  Ceplias,  swore  that 
they  would  not  deny  him. 

• Matt.,  XXVI,  29;  Mark,  xiv,  23;  Luke,  xxii,  18. 

♦ Luke,  XXII,  29  30  X Luke,  xxii,  36-38.  

I Matt., XXVI,  31  seqqv  Mark,  xiv,  29  seqq.;  Luke,  xxii,  33  eeqq  * JobB  BiOi 

lereqq. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS 


sjr 


CHAPTEE  XXIV. 


ABBB8T  AKD  IBI^L  OF  JE8U8. 

i^iGHT  had  completely  fallen*  when  they  left  the 
room.f  Jesus,  according  to  his  habit,  crossed  the  val- 
ley of  the  Cedron,  and  repaired  accompanied  by  his 
disciples,  to  the  garden  of  Gethsemane,  at  the  foot  of 
the  mount  of  01ives4  Predominating  over  his  friends 
by  his  immense  superiority,  he  watched  and  prayed. 
They  were  sleeping  beside  him,  when  suddenly  a band 
of  men  presented  themselves  by  the  light  of  their 
torches.  They  were  sergeants  of  the  temple,  armed 
with  clubs,  a species  of  police  which  had  been  left  to 
the  priests  ; they  were  supported  by  a detachment  of 
Koman  soldiers  with  their  swords  ; the  order  of  arrest 
emanated  from  the  high-priest  and  the  Sanhedrin.) 
Judas,  knowing  the  habits  of  Jesus,  had  indicated  this 
place  as  that  in  which  they  might  most  easily  surprise 
him.  Judas,  according  to  the  unanimous  tradition  of 
the  primitive  times,  himself  accompanied  the  squad^ 

• John,  XIII,  30. 

t The  circumstance  of  a hymn  related  by  Matt,  xxvi,  30,  and  Mark^  nv,  U 
eomes  from  the  opinion  held  by  these  two  Evangelists  that  the  last  Supper  of 
BUB  was  the  paschal  feast.  Before  and  after  the  paschal  feast,  psakns  are  squg 
Talm.  of  Bab.,  Pesachim,  cap.  ix,  6 hal.  3 et  fol,  118  a,  etc. 

t Matt,  XXVI,  36;  Mark,  xiv,  32;  Luke,  xxii,  39;  John  xviii,  1-2. 

f Matt,  XXVI,  47;  Mark,  xiv,  43;  .lohn,  xviii,  3, 12. 

§ Matt,  XXVI,  47;  Mark,  xiv,  43;  Luke,  xxu,  47;  John,  xviii,  3;  Aclt,  1. 16. 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


and  everij  atcording  to  some,*  was  so  detestable  as  tc 
make  a kiss  the  sign  of  his  treachery.  However  this 
may  be,  it  is  certain  tliat  the  disciples  made  a begin- 
ning  of  resistance.:}:  One  of  them  (Peter,  according  to 

tJie  eye  witnesses:}:)  drew  his  sword  and  wounded  one 
of  the  servants  of  the  high-priest  named  Malek  in  the 
ear.  Jesus  checked  this  first  impulse.  He  gave  him- 
self up  to  the  soldiers.  Weak  and  incapable  of  acting 
with  success,  especially  against  authorities  which  had 
so  great  prestige,  the  disciples  took  to  flight  and  dis- 
persed. Peter  and  John  kept  within  sight  of  their 
master.  Another  unknown  young  man  followed  him, 
dressed  in  a thin  garment.  An  attempt  was  made  to 
arrest  him  ; but  the  young  man  fled,  leaving  his  tunic 
in  the  hands  of  the  officers.! 

The  course  which  the  priests  had  resolved  to  follow 
against  Jesus,  was  strictly  conformable  to  the  estab- 
lished law.  The  procedure  against  the  ‘‘  seducer  ” 
{mesith)j  who  seeks  to  sully  the  purity  of  the  faith,  is 
laid  down  in  the  Talmud  with  details  the  shameless 
simplicity  of  which  causes  a smile.  In  it  judicial 
ambuscade  is  constituted  an  essential  portion  of  the 
criminal  process.  When  a man  is  accused  of  “ seduc- 
tion,” two  witnesses  are  concealed  beiiind  a partition ; 
and  it  is  arranged  to  bring  the  accused  into  an  adjoin- 
ing room,  in  which  he  can  be  heard  by  the  two  wit/- 
nesses  without  himself  perceiving  them.  Two  candles 
are  lighted  near  him,  that  it  may  be  fully  established 
hat  the  witnesses  see  him.”§  Then  he  is  made  to 
repeat  his  blasphemy.  He  is  urged  to  retract — 

• This  is  the  tradition  of  the  synoptics.  In  the  narrative  of  John,  Jesus  an 
nounces  himaelf.  t The  two  traditions  accord  upon  this  point 

t John,  XVIII  10.  li  Mark,  XIV,  51-62. 

5 in  criminal  matters,  only  eye-witnesses  were  admitted.  Mischna  SanM 
IV,  5. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


329 


If  lie  persists,  the  witnesses  wlio  have  tieard  him,  bring 
him  to  the  tribunal,  and  he  is  stoned.  The  Talmud 
adds  that  this  course  was  adopted  in  the  proceeding 
against  Jesus,  that  he  was  condemned  upon  the  testi- 
mony of  two  witnesses  who  had  been  concealed,  that 
‘ seduction  ” is,  moreover,  the  only  crime  for  which 
witnesses  are  thus  prepared.* 

The  disciples  of  Jesus  apprise  us,  indeed,  that  the 
crime  charged  against  their  master  was  ‘‘  seduction, 
and,  with  the  exception  of  certain  minutiae,  the  fruit 
of  the  rabbinical  imagination,  the  narrative  of  the 
evangelists  corresponds  word  for  word  to  the  proceed- 
ing described  by  the  Talmud.  The  plan  of  the  ene- 
mies of  Jesus  was  to  convict  him,  by  examination  of 
witnesses  and  by  his  own  confessions,  of  blasphemy 
and  of  an  outrage  upon  the  Mosaic  religion,  to  condemn 
him  to  death  according  to  the  law,  and  then  to  make 
Pilate  approve  the  sentence.  The  sacerdotal  author- 
ity, as  we  have  already  seen,  resided  in  fact  entirelj^ 
in  the  hands  of  Hanan.  The  order  of  arrest  came 
probably  from  him.  To  the  house  of  this  powerfu/ 
personage  Jesus  was  first  taken. :|:  Hanan  questioned 

him  as  to  his  doctrines  and  his  disciples.  Jesus  re- 
fused with  a just  pride  to  enter  into  long  explanations. 
He  referred  them  to  his  teaching,  which  had  been 
public  ; he  declared  that  he  had  never  had  any  secret 
doctrine  ; he  invited  the  ex-high-priest  to  question 
those  who  had  heard  him.  Tliis  response  was  perfectly 
latural ; but  the  exaggerated  respect  with  which  the 

* Ta!m.  of  Jerus.,  Sanhedritij  xiv,  16;  Talm.  of  Bab. , same  treatise,  43  a.  67  a. 
Cf.  SchaUbcUh,  104  6.  f Matt.,  xxviii,  63;  John,  vii,  12, 47. 

X John,  xYiii,  13  seqq.  This  eircumstance,  which  is  found  only  in  John,  is  thf 
strongest  proof  of  the  historic  yalue  of  the  fourth  Gospel. 


330 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


aged  pontiff  was  surrounded  made  it  seem  audacious 
one  of  the  bystanders  replied,  it  is  said  with  a cuff. 

Peter  and  John  had  followed  their  master  to  Ha« 
nar’s  house.  John,  who  was  known  in  the  house,  wal 
admitted  without  difficulty  ; but  Peter  was  stopped  a 
ihe  entrance,  and  John  was  obliged  to  beg  the  por 
tress  to  let  him  pass.  The  night  was  cold.  Peter  re- 
mained in  the  antechamber,  and  approached  a brazier 
about  which  the  servants  were  warming  themselves. 
He  was  quickly  recognized  as  a disciple  of  the  accused. 
The  wretched  man,  betrayed  by  his  Galilean  ac- 
cent, pressed  with  questions  by  the  servants,  one  of 
whom  was  a relative  of  Malek  and  had  seen  him  in 
Gethsemane,  denied  three  times  that  he  had  ever  had 
the  least  connection  with  Jesus.  He  thought  that  Je- 
sus could  not  hear  him,  and  did  not  realize  that  this 
cowai’dly  dissimulation  was  utterly  unscrupulous.  But 
his  better  nature  quickly  revealed  to  him  the  fault 
which  he  had  committed.  A fortuitous  circumstance, 
the  crowing  of  the  cock,  recalled  to  him  the  words 
which  Jesus  had  spoken.  Pricked  to  the  heart,  lie 
went  out  and  wept  bitterly.* 

Hanan,  although  the  real  author  of  the  judicial 
murder  which  was  to  be  committed,  had  no  power  to 
pronounce  sentence  on  Jesus ; he  sent  him  to  his  son- 
in-law  Caiaphas,  who  wore  the  official  title.  This  man, 
the  blind  instrument  of  his  father-in-law,  ratified  all  as 
a matter  of  course.  The  Sanhedrin  was  assembled  at 
his  house.f  The  examination  commenced  ; several 
witnesses,  prepared  in  advance  according  to  the  inqui- 
sitorial process  set  forth  in  the  Talmud,  appeared  be- 

• Matt.,  XXVI,  69  geqq. ; Mark,  xrv,  66  seqq. ; Luke,  xxn,  54  8eqq. ; John,  xvm 
16  geqq. ; 26  eeqq.  f Matt , xvi,  57;  Mark,  xiv,  53;  Luke,  xxii,  66. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


331 


fore  the  tribunal.  The  fatal  words  which  Jesus  had 
really  pronounced  : am  able  to  destroy  the  temple 

of  God,  and  to  build  it  in  three  days,”  were  cited  hy 
two  witnesses.  To  blaspheme  tlie  temple  of  God  was, 
according  to  the  Jewish  law,  to  blaspheme  God  him 
self  * Jesus  preserved  silence  and  refused  to  exp-aiii 
the  incriminated  words.  According  to  one  narrative, 
the  high  priest  then  adjured  him  to  say  whether  he 
was  the  Messiah.  Jesus  confessed  it  and  proclaimed 
before  the  assembly  the  speedy  coming  of  his  heavenly 
kingdom.f  The  courage  of  Jesus  determined-  upon 
death,  does  not  call  for  this.  It  is  most  probable  that 
here,  as  at  Hanan’s  house,  he  held  his  peace.  This 
w^as  in  general  during  these  last  hours  his  rule  of  con- 
duct. The  sentence  was  drawn  up.  Pretexts  only 
were  sought.  Jesus  knew  it,  and  did  not  undertake  a 
useless  defense.  From  the  stand-point  of  orthodox 
Judaism  he  was  indeed  a blasphemer,  a destroyer  of 
the  established  worship  ; now  these  crimes  were  pun- 
ished with  death  by  the  law4  With  one  voice  the  as- 
sembly declared  him  guilty  of  capital  crime.  The 
members  of  the  council  who  were  secretly  favorable 
to  him  were  absent  or  did  not  vote.J  The  frivolity 
common  to  long  established  aristocracies  prevented 
the  judges  from  reflecting  at  length  upon  the  conse- 
quences of  the  sentence  which  they  gave.  Human 
life  was  then  sacrificed  very  lightly;  undoubtedly 
tlie  members  of  the  Sanhedrin  did  not  dream  that 
their  children  were  to  render  account  to  an  angry  pos- 
terity for  the  sentence  pronounced  with  such  careless 
contempt. 

♦ Matt. , XXIII,  16  seqq. 

t Matt.,  XXVI,  64;  Mark,  xiv,  62;  Lake,  xxii,  69.  John  knows  ncthinjf  of  thil 
■oene.  X > XXIV,  14  seqq. ; Deiit. , xiii,  1 seqq.  fl  Luke,  xxiii,  60-6L 


882 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITT. 


The  Sanhedrin  had  no  riglit  to  execute  a sentence 
of  death.*  But,  in  the  confusion  of  powers  then 
reigning  in  Judea,  Jesus  was  none  the  less,  from  that 
hour,  a condemned  man.  He  remained  during  the 
rest  of  the  night  exposed  to  the  ill  treatment  of  a 
base  varletry,  who  spared  him  no  alfront.f 
In  the  morning,  tlie  chief  priests  and  the  elders  as- 
sembled anew.:}:  The  question  was,  how  to  make  Pi- 

late ratify  the  sentence  pronounced  by  the  Sanhe- 
drin, which,  since  the  occupation  of  the  Homans,  was 
insufficient.  The  procurator  was  not  invested  like  the 
imperial  legate  with  the  power  of  life  and  death.  But 
Jesus  was  not  a Roman  citizen  ; the  authorization  of 
the  governor  sufficed  to  allow  the  sentence  pronounced 
against  him  to  take  its  course.  As  always  happens 
when  a political  people  subject  a nation  in  which  the 
civil  and  religious  law  are  one,  the  Romans  had  been 
led  to  give  a sort  of  official  support  to  the  Jewish 
law.  The  Roman  law  did  not  apply  to  tlie  Jews. 
They  remained  under  the  canonical  law  which  we  find 
in  the  Talmud,  in  the  same  manner  as  the  Algerian 
Arabs  are  yet  ruled  by  the  code  of  Islam.  Although 
neutrals  in  religion,  the  Romans  thus  sanctioned  very 
often  penalties  for  religious  olfenses.  The  situation 
was  almost  that  of  the  holy  cities  of  India  under  the 
English  rule,  or  still  more  like  what  the  condition  of 
Damascus  would  be  on  the  morning  after  the  con 
quest  of  Syria  by  a European  nation.  Josephun 
claimed,  (but  it  is  indeed  doubtful,)  that  if  a Roman 
passed  beyond  the  columns  which  bore  inscription! 

♦ John,  XVIII,  81;  Jos.,  Ant.,  XX,  ix,  1. 

♦ Matt.,  XXVI,  67-68;  Mark,  xiv,  65;  Luke,  xxii,  63-65. 

i Matt., xxvil,  1; Mark,  xv^  1;  Luke,  xxii  66;  xxni,  1;  John,  XTUi, 28 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


333 


forbidding  pagans  to  go  farther,  tlie  Eomans  them 
selves  delivered  him  to  the  Jews  to  be  put  to  death.'" 

The  officers  of  the  priests,  therefore,  bound  Jesus  aiiJ 
led  him  to  the  preetorium,  which  was  the  former  pal- 
ace of  Herod, t adjoining  the  Antonia  tower.:[:  1 

was  tlie  morning  of  the  day  when  they  were  to  ea 
tlie  paschal  lamb,  (Friday,  tlie  14th  of  Nisan,  April 
3rd.)  The  Jews  by  entering  the  prsetorium  would  be 
defiled,  and  rendered  unable  to  participate  in  the  sa- 
cred feast.  They  remained  without.!  Pilate,  advised 
of  their  presence,  mounted  the  Mma^%  or  tribunal  situ- 
ated in  the  open  air,^  at  the  spot  called  Gabhatha^ 
or  in  Greek  Lithostrotos^  because  of  the  tesselated 
pavement  which  covered  the  ground.  Hardly  was  he 
informed  of  the  accusation  before  he  expressed  his 
displeasure  at  being  concerned  in  the  matter.'^*  Then 
he  shut  himself  up  in  the  prjetorium  with  Jesus. 
There  took  place  a conversation  the  precise  details  of 
which  have  escaped  us,  no  witness  being  able  to  re- 
port it  to  the  disciples,  but  the  purport  of  which  ap- 
pears to'have  been  well  divined  by  John.  His  narra- 
tive indeed  is  in  perfect  accord  with  what  history  in- 
forms us  of  the  reciprocal  situation  of  the  two  interlo- 
cutors. 

The  procurator  Pontius,  surnamed  Pilatus,  doubt- 
less from  i\\Q  pilum  or  javelin  of  honor  with  which  he 
himself  or  ore  of  his  ancestors  had  been  decorated,ff 

♦ Jos.;  ArU  , XV,  xi,  6;  B.  J.,  VI,  ii,  4. 

i Philo,  Legatio  ad  Caium,  ^ 38.  J os  B.  J. , II,  xiv.  8. 

Ou  the  spot  where  now  is  the  seraglio  of  the  Pasha  of  Jerusalem. 

John,  xsTiii,  28. 

§ The  Greek  word  /37j,aa  had  passed  into  Syro-Chaldaic. 

^ Jos.,  J5.  J.,  II,  IX,  3;  XIV,  8;  Matt.,  xxvii,  27;  John,  xvui,  33. 

**  John,  XVIII,  29. 

ft  Virg.,  XII,  121;  Martial,  Epigr.,  1,  xxxiii;  X,  xlvii;  Plutarch,  Life  ^ 
Compare  the 2>^ra,  military  decoration,  Orelli  aitd  Henaa^ 


S34 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


had  not  had  hitherto  any  relation  with  the  infant  sect 
Indifferent  to  the  internal  quarrels  of  the  Jews,  he 
saw  in  all  these  movements  of  sectaries  nothing  more 
than  the  effects  of  intemperate  imaginations  or  of  dis- 
ordered wits.  In  general,  he  did  not  love  the  Jews. 
But  the  Jews  detested  him  still  more ; they  thought 
him  severe,  contemptuous  and  jassionate  ; they  ac- 
cused him  of  improbable  crimes.*  The  center  of  a 
great  popular  fermentation,  Jerusalem  was  a very  se- 
ditious city,  and  to  a stranger  an  unendurable  place  of 
residence.  The  zealots  imputed  to  the  new  procura- 
tor a fixed  design  to  abolish  the  Jewish  law.f  Their 
narrow  fanaticism,  their  religious  hatreds  were  revolt- 
ing to  this  broad  idea  of  justice  and  civil  government, 
which  the  humblest  Roman  citizen  carried  with  him 
everywhere.  All  the  acts  of  Pilate  which  are  known 
to  us  show  him  as  a good  administrator. In  the  first 
days  of  his  rule  he  had  had  difiiculties  with  those  un- 
der his  administration  which  he  had  settled  in  a very 
brutal  manner,  but  in  which  it  seems  that  he  was 
substantially  right.  The  Jews  must  have  appeared  to 
him  a very  backward  race;  he  judged  them  undoubt 
edly  as  a liberal  prefect  formerly  judged  the  Bas-Bre- 
tons,  revolting  for  a new  road,  or  for  the  establish 
ment  of  a school.  In  his  best  projects  for  the  good  of 
the  country,  notably  in  all  that  pertained  to  public 
works,  he  had  encountered  the  Law  as  an  insuperable 
obstacle.  The  Law  restricted  life  to  such  an  extent 
what  it  opposed  all  change  and  all  amelioration.  Ro- 
man constructions,  even  those  most  useful,  were  to 

/mcr.  lot. , Kos.  3,574, 6,852,  etc.  Pilatus  is,  in  this  hypothesis,  a word  of  the  saiBf 
fom  as  Ibrqmtus. 

* Philo,  Leg.  ad  Caiwm^  § 38. 

Jos-,  Ant.^  XVIll,  III,  1,  init  f Jos.,  Ant , XVIII,  ii-ir 


LIFE  OF  JESUS- 


3S5 


the  zealous  Jews  an  object  of  great  antipath3^*  Two 
votive  shields,  with  inscriptions,  which  he  had  caused 
to  be  placed  opposite  his  residence,  near  the  sacred 
enclosure,  provoked  a yet  more  violent  storin.f  Pilate 
at  first  paid  little  attention  to  these  susceptibilities ; he 
became  thus  engaged  in  repressing  bloody  outbreaks, 
which  led  to  his  removal. ||  The  experience  of  so  ma 
ny  conflicts  had  rendered  him  very  prudent  in  hia 
dealings  with  an  intractable  people,  who  avenged 
themselves  on  their  masters  by  compelling  them  to 
use  against  them  execrable  severities.  With  extreme 
displeasure  the  procurator  saw  himself  led  in  this  new 
matter  to  act  a cruel  part  for  a law  which  he  hated. § 
He  knew  that  religious  fanaticism,  when  it  has  ob- 
tained from  civil  governments  some  deed  of  violence, 
is  straightway  the  first  to  throw  upon  them  the  respon- 
sibility, and  almost  to  accuse  them  of  it.  Supreme  in- 
justice ; for  the  real  criminal,  in  such  a case,  is  the 
instigator  ! 

Pilate  would,  therefore,  have  preferred  to  save  Je- 
sus. Perhaps  the  calm  and  dignified  attitude  of  the 
accused  made  some  in>pression  upon  him.  According 
to  one  tradition,^  Jesus  found  a support  in  the  wife  ox 
the  procurator  herself.  She  might  have  seen  the  gen- 
tle Galilean  from  some  window  of  the  palace,  looking 
upon  the  courts  of  the  temple.  Perhaps  she  saw  him 
again  in  a dream,  and  the  blood  of  this  beautiful 
young  man,  which  was  about  to  be  shed,  gave  her  the 
nightmare.  So  much  is  certain,  that  Jesus  found  Pl- 
ate predisposed  in  his  favor.  The  governor  questioned 

* Talm.  of  Bab. , SchdtbatKy  33  5.  f Philo^  Leg.  ad  CaiuM,  i 

iJos.,  Ant.y  XVIII,  III,  1 and  2;  BeU.  Jud..  II,  i¥,  2 seqq.;  Luke,  xiii,  1. 

Jo8.,  Ant.f  XVIII.  IV,  1-2.  ^ J'lhn,  xvii  l ^ 

Matt.,xxvii,19. 


336 


ORIGINS  OF  Christianity: 


him  with  kindness,  and  with  the  intention  of  seeking 
all  means  to  set  him  free. 

The  title  of  ‘‘  King  of  the  Jews,”  which  Jesus  had 
never  given  himself,  but  which  his  enemies  presented 
as  the  sum  of  his  acts  and  pretentions,  was  naturally 
that  by  which  they  could  excite  the  umbrage  of  the 
Koman  authority.  It  was  on  this  charge,  as  seditious 
an^  guilty  of  crime  against  the  State,  that  they  under- 
took to  accuse  him.  Nothing  was  more  unjust;  for 
Jesus  had  always  recognized  the  Roman  empire  as  the 
established  power.  But  conservative  religious  parties 
are  not  accustomed  to  recoil  at  the  utterance  of  calum- 
ny. They  deduced  in  spite  of  him  all  the  consequen- 
ces of  his  doctrine  ; they  transformed  him  into  a disci- 
ple of  Juda  the  Gaulonite;  they  feigned  that  he  op- 
posed the  payment  of  tribute  to  Csesar.*  Pilate 
asked  him  if  he  were  really  tlie  king  of  the  Jews.f  Je- 
sus dissembled  nothing  of  his  thought.  But  tlie  great 
ambiguity  which  had  created  his  power,  and  which 
after  his  death  was  to  constitute  his  royalty,  did  not 
avail  him  now.  An  idealist,  that  is,  making  no  dis- 
tinction between  spirit  and  matter,  his  mouth  armed 
with  his  two-edged  sword,  according  to  the  image  of  the 
A pocalypse,  Jesus  never  completely  reassured  the  pow- 
ers of  the  earth.  If  we  may  believe  John,  he  avowed 
his  royalty,  but  pronounced  at  the  same  time  this  pro- 
found sentence  : “ My  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world.” 
Then  he  explained  the  nature  of  his  royalty,  all  being 
Biiumed  up  in  the  possession  and  proclamation  of  tha 
truth.  Pilate  comprehended  nothing  of  this  superio. 
dealism.:]:  Jesus  appeared  to  him  doubtless  an  inof 

♦ liuke,  XXIII,  2,  5. 

f Matt.,  XXVII,  11;  M»ark,  xv,  2-  Luke,  xriii,  3:  John,  xviii,  88. 

i John,  xviii,  38 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


337 


tensive  dreamer.  The  total  lack  of  religious  and  phi- 
losophical proselytism  among  the  Romans  of  tha 
epoch  made  them  look  upon  devotion  to  truth  as  a 
chimera.  These  discussions  wearied  them,  and  ap 
peared  to  them  devoid  of  sense.  Not  seeing  how 
dangerous  to  the  empire  was  the  leaven  concealed  in 
these  new  speculations,  they  had  no  reason  to  employ 
violence  against  them.  All  their  displeasure  fell  upon 
those  who  came  to  ask  them  to  administer  punishments 
for  empty  subtleties.  Twenty  years  later  Gallio  still  fol- 
lowed the  same  line  of  conduct  with  the  Jews.*  Until  the 
destruction  of  Jerusalem,  the  administrative  rule  of  the 
Romans  was  to  remain  completely  indifferent  to  these 
quarrels  of  sectaries.f 

One  expedient  suggested  itself  to  the  mind  of  the 
governor  to  reconcile  his  own  feelings  with  the  de- 
mands of  the  fanatical  people  whose  pressure  he  had 
already  so  many  times  experienced.  It  was  the  cus- 
tom at  the  feast  of  the  Passover  to  deliver  to  the  peo- 
ple a prisoner.  Pilate,  knowing  that  Jesus  had  been 
arrested  only  in  consequence  of  the  jealousy  of  the 
priests, :|;  endeavored  to  give  him  the  benefit  of  this 
custom.  He  appeared  anew  upon  the  hima^  and  pro- 
posed to  the  multitude  to  release  ‘‘  the  king  of  the 
Jews.”  The  proposition  made  in  these  terms  had  a 
certain  character  of  liberality,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
of  irony.  The  priests  saw  its  danger.  They  acted 
promptly,!  and  to  defeat  the  proposition  of  Pilate,  they 

• Acti,  xviii  14-15. 

4 Tacitus  {Arm.,  xv,  44)  presents  the  death  of  Jesus  as  a political  execution  by 
Pontius  Pilate.  But,  at  the  time  when  Tacitus  wrote,  the  Roman  policy  to- 
wards the  Christians  had  changed;  they  were  considered  guilty  of  conspiracy 
against  the  State.  It  was  natural  that  the  Latin  historian  should  believe  tbal 
Pilate,  in  executing  Jesus,  had  acted  from  considerations  of  public  security 
Josephus  is  much  more  exact  {Ant.,  XVIII,  iii,  3). 

X Mark,  xv,  10. 

I Matt.,  xxvii,  20;  Mark,  xv,  U. 


838 


ORIGINS  OP  CHRISTIANITY. 


suggested  to  the  multitude  the  name  of  a prisoner  wli« 
enjoyed  great  popularity  in  Jerusalem.  By  a singula! 
chance,  he  also  was  called  Jesus,*  and  bore  the  sur 
name  of  Bar- Abba  or  Bar-Iiabban.f  This  was  a per 
onage  well  known he  had  been  arrested  for  a riot 
Uccompanied  with  murder. j A general  clamor  arose: 
‘Not  this  one;  but  Jesus  Bar-Rabban.”  Pilate  was 
obliged  to  give  up  Jesus  Bar-Rabban. 

His  embarrassment  increased.  He  feared  lest  too 
much  indulgence  for  a prisoner  to  whom  was  given  the 
title  of  “king  of  the  Jews,”  should  compromise  him. 
Fanaticism,  moreover,  leads  all  powers  to  treat  with  it. 
Pilate  thought  himself  obliged  to  make  some  conces- 
sion ; but  stiil  hesitating  at  bloodshed  to  satisfy  people 
whom  he  detested,  he  endeavored  to  give  the  matter 
a ridiculous  turn.  Professing  to  laugh  at  the  pompous 
title  given  to  Jesus,  he  caused  him  to  be  whipped. § 
Flaggellation  was  the  ordinary  preliminary  of  cruci- 
fixion-T  Perhaps  Pilate  wished  to  lead  them  to  believe 
that  that  sentence  was  already  pronounced,  while  yet 
hoping  that  the  preliminary  punishment  would  suffice. 
Then  followed,  according  to  all  the  narratives,  a revolting 
scene.  Soldiers  put  upon  his  body  a red  gown,  a crown 
woven  of  thorn  branches  upon  his  head,  and  a reed  in 
his  hand.  Thus  covered,  he  was  led  out  upon  the  hi7na^ 
before  the  people.  The  soldiers  defiled  in  front  of  him, 
slappedhim  in  the  face  each  in  turn,  and,  kneeling,  said : 
“Hail,  king  of  the  Jews!”**  Others,  it  is  said,  spit 

♦ The  name  of  Jesus  has  disappeared  in  most  of  the  manuscripts.  This  read 
tug  has,  nevertheless,  very  strong  authority, 
f Matt.,  XXVII,  16.  t Cf  St.  Jerome,  in  Matt,  xxvii,  16. 

I Mark,  xv,  7;  Luke,  xxiii,  19.  John  (xviii,  40),  who  ma^es  him  a robber 
appears  here  much  less  accurate  than  Mark. 

& Matt.  XXVII,  20;  Mark,  xv,  16;  John,  xix,  1. 

^ Jos.,  B.  J,  II,  XIV,  9;  V,  XI,  1;  VII,  vi,  4;  Livy,  XXXIII,  36;  Qulnlfos  Cuf 
ttuB,  VII,  XI,  28. 

••Matt.,  XXVII, 27  seqq. ; Mark  xv,  seqq. ; Lulie, xxiii,  11;  John,  xix,  2 seqq 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


339 


Qpon  him  and  struck  him  upon  the  head  with  the  reed. 
It  is  difficult  to  understand  how  Roman  gravity  should 
have  lent  itself  to  acts  so  shameful.  It  is  true  that 
Pilate,  in  his  capacity  of  procurator,  had  scarcely  any 
but  auxiliary  troops  under  his  orders.*  Roman  citi 
^ns,  like  the  legionaries,  would  not  have  descended 
jO  such  indignities. 

Did  Pilate  think  by  this  parade  to  cover  up  his  re- 
sponsibility ? Did  he  hope  to  turn  aside  the  blow 
which  menaced  Jesus  by  according  something  to  the 
hatred  of  the  Jews.f  and  by  substituting  for  the 
tragic  termination  a grotesque  ending,  from  which  it 
would  seem  to  result  that  the  matter  merited  no  other 
issue  ? If  such  were  his  idea,  he  had  no  success.  The 
tumult;  increased,  and  became  a real  sedition.  Cries 
of  “ Let  him  be  crucified ! let  him  be  crucified !”  re- 
sounded on  all  sides.  The  priests,  assuming  a more 
and  more  exacting  tone,  declared  the  Law  in  peril,  if 
the  seducer  were  not  punished  with  death.:]:  Pilate 

saw  clearly  that,  to  save  Jesus,  it  would  be  necessary 
to  quell  a bloody  riot.  Nevertheless,  he  still  endeav- 
ored to  gain  time.  He  entered  the  praetorium  tgain, 
and  informed  himself  of  what  country  Jesus  was,  seek- 
ing some  pretext  for  denying  his  jurisdiction.!  Ac- 
cording to  one  tradition,  he  even  sent  Jesus  to  Anti- 
pater, who,  it  is  said,  was  then  at  Jerusalem.§  Jesus 

* See  Imcript  rom.  de  L^Algerie^  No.  6,  fragln.  B. 

ILuke,  XXII,  16, 22  J Jotm,  xix,  7. 

John,  XIX,  9.  Cf.  Luke,  xxiii,  6 seqq. 

It  is  probable  that  this  is  a first  attempt  at  a “Harmony  of  the  Gospels.’* 
Luke  must  have  had  before  his  eyes  a narrative  in  which  the  death  of  Jesus  waf 
erroneously  attributed  to  Herod.  In  order  not  to  sacrifice  that  version  entirely, 
be  put  the  two  traditions  one  after  the  other,  the  more  as  he  perhaps  knew 
vaguely,  that  Jesus  (as  John  informs  us)  appeared  before  three  authorities.  In 
many  other  cases,  Luke  seems  to  have  some  distant  notion  of  the  fact! 
which  are  peculiar  to  John’s  narration.  Moreover,  the  third  gospel  contains  in 
rega-rd  to  the  history  of  the  crucifixion,  a series  of  additions  which  the  authoc 
appears  to  have  borrowed  from  a more  recent  document,  in  which  an  arrangt 
uent,  with  a view  to  edification  was  perceptible. 


340 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


lent  liimself  little  to  these  kindly  efforts ; he  presorve^l, 
as  at  the  house  of  Caiaphas,  a grave  and  dignifiei  si‘ 
lence,  which  astonished  Pilate.  The  cries  without  be 
came  more  and  more  threatening.  They  already  de- 
lounced  the  lack  of  zeal  of  the  functionary  who  fa 
rored  an  enemy  of  Csesar.  The  greatest  adversaries 
f the  Roman  domination  were  transformed  into  loyal 
ubjects  of  Tiberias,  in  order  to  gain  the  right  to  ac- 
cuse the  too  tolerant  procurator  of  high  treason.  There 
is  no  king  here,”  said  they^  ‘‘  but  the  emperor ; whoso- 
ever makes  himself  king,  puts  himself  in  opposition 
with  the  emperor.  If  the  governor  acquits  the  man, 
he  is  not  the  emperor’s  friend.”*  The  feeble  Pilate 
[altered ; he  read  in  advance  the  report  that  his  ene- 
mies would  send  to  Rome,  in  which  they  would  accuse 
him  of  having  sustained  a rival  of  Tiberius.  Already, 
in  the  affair  of  the  votive  shields,!  the  Jews  had  writ- 
ten to  the  emperor,  and  had  been  sustained.  He 
feared  for  his  position.  By  a condescension  which  was 
to  deliver  his  name  to  the  scourges  of  history,  he  yielded, 
casting,  it  is  said,  upon  the  Jews  all  responsibility  for 
what  should  follow.  The  latter,  according  to  the  Chris- 
tians, accepted  it  fully,  crying : His  blood  be  on  us 

and  on  our  children !”! 

Were  these  words  really  pronounced?  We  may 
doubt  it.  But  they  are  the  expression  of  a deep  his- 
torical truth.  Considering  the  position  which  the  Ro- 
mans had  assumed  in  Judea,  Pilate  could  hardly  have 
done  other  than  he  did.  How  many  sentences  of 
death,  dictated  by  religious  intolerance,  have  forced 
the  hand  of  the  civil  power!  The  king  of  Spain  who 

• John,  XIX  12  15.  Cf.  Luke,  xxiii,  2 To  appreciate  the  exactitude  of  thl 
eolorins:  of  this  scene  in  the  Evangelists,  see  Phiio,  Leg.  ad  Caium,  § 38. 

I See  above,  p.  3J5.  X Matt.,  s.xyii,  24-21. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


841 


to  please  a fanatical  clergy,  gave  up  to  the  state  hun 
dreds  of  his  subjects,  was  more  blameable  than  Pilate^ 
for  he  represented  a more  complete  power  than  was 
yet  established  at  Jerusalem  by  the  Romans.  When 
the  civil  power  becomes  a persecutor  or  an  inter- 
meddler,  at  the  solicitation  of  the  priest,  it  proves  its 
weakness.  But  let  that  government  which  in  this  re- 
gard is  without  sin,  cast  the  first  stone  at  Pilate.  The 
‘‘secular  arm,”  behind  which  clerical  cruelty  shelters 
itself,  is  not  the  criminal.  None  can  say  that  he  has  a 
horror  of  blood,  when  he  causes  it  to  be  shed  by  his 
servants. 

It  was,  therefore,  neither  Tiberius  nor  Pilate  who 
condemned  Jesus.  It  was  the  old  Jewish  party;  h 
was  the  Mosaic  law.  According  to  our  modern  ideas, 
there  is  no  transmission  of  moral  demerit  from  father 
to  son ; each  must  account  to  human  as  well  as  to  di- 
vine justice  only  for  what  he  himself  has  done.  Every 
Jew,  consequently,  who  in  our  day  still  suffers  for  the 
murder  of  Jesus,  has  a right  to  complain  ; for  perhaps 
he  would  have  been  a Simon  the  Cyrenean  ; perhaps 
at  least  he  had  not  been  with  those  who  cried  : “ Cru- 
cify him !”  But  nations  have  their  responsibility  as 
well  as  individuals.  Now,  if  ever  crime  was  the  crime 
of  a nation,  it  was  the  execution  of  Jesus.  This  exe- 
cution was  ‘‘legal,”  in  the  sense  that  its  first  cause  was 
a law  which  was  the  very  soul  of  the  nation.  The 
Mosaic  law,  in  its  modern  form,  it  is  true,  but  yet  ite 
accepted  form,  pronounced  the  sentence  of  death  against 
every  attempt  to  change  the  established  worship.  Now 
Jesus,  without  any  doubt,  attacked  this  worship,  and 
aspired  to  destroy  it.  The  Jews  said  to  Pilate,  with 
simple  and  true  frankness : “ We  have  a Law,  and  by 


342 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


our  Law  he  ought  to  die ; because  he  made  himself 
the  Son  of  God.”*  The  law  was  detestable ; but  U 
was  the  law  of  an  ancient  ferocity,  and  the  hero  who 
offered  himself  to  abrogate  it  must  first  of  all  suffer  it. 

Alas,  that  more  than  eighteen  hundred  years  must  pass 
away  before  the  blood  which  he  is  now  to  shed  shal 
bear  its  fruits ! In  his  name,  for  centuries,  the  torturer 
of  death  shall  be  infl.icted  upon  thinkers  as  noble  as  he. 
To-day  even,  in  countries  which  call  themselves  Chris- 
tian, penalties  are  imposed  for  religious  delinquencies. 
Jesus  is  not  responsible  for  these  mutations.  He  could 
not  foresee  that  any  people,  with  disordered  imagina- 
tion, would  one  day  conceive  him  a frightful  Moloch, 
greedy  for  burning  fl.esh.  Christianity  has  been  intol- 
erant ; but  intolerance  is  not  a trait  essentially  Chris- 
tian. It  is  a Jewish  trait,  in  this  sense  that  Judaism 
built  up  for  the  first  time  the  theory  of  the  absolute 
into  a religion,  and  established  the  principle  that  every 
innovator,  even  when  he  brings  miracles  to  the  sup- 
port of  his  doctrine,  ought  to  l>e  received  with  blows, 
and  be  stoned  by  the  whole  world,  without  ahearing.f 
Certainly,  the  pagan  world  had  also  its  religious  vio- 
lence. But  if  it  had  had  that  law,  how  would  it  have 
become  Christian  ? The  Pentateuch  was  thus  the  first 
code  of  religious  terror  in  the  world.  Judaism  has 
given  the  example  of  an  immutable  dogma,  armed 
with  the  sword.  If,  instead  of  pursuing  the  Jews  with 
a blind  hatred,  Christianity  had  abolished  the  regim 
which  slew  its  founder,  how  much  more  consistent 
would  it  have  been,  how  much  better  it  would  havi 
deserved  of  mankind  1 


• John,  SIX,  7 


t XVutyXiiiylseqq. 


UFE  OF  JESUS. 


313 


CHAPTER  XXY. 


THE  DEATH  OP  JE8I7S. 

Aliaough  the  real  motive  of  the  execution  of  Jesus 
was  wholly  religious,  his  enemies  had  succeeded,  at  the 
praetorium,  in  presenting  him  as  guilty  of  treason  ; 
they  would  not  have  obtained  from  the  skeptical  Pi- 
late a condemnation  for  cause  of  heterodoxy.  Follow- 
ing out  this  idea,  the  priests,  through  the  multitude, 
demanded  the  execution  of  Jesus  by  the  cross.  Cru- 
cifixion was  not  of  Jewish  origin  ; had  the  condemna- 
tion of  Jesus  been  purely  Mosaic,  he  would  have  been 
stoned.  The  cross  was  a Roman  punishment,  reserved 
for  slaves  and  those  cases  in  which  it  was  desired  to 
add  to  death  the  aggravation  of  ignominy.  In  apply- 
ing it  to  Jesus,  he  was  treated  like  highway-robbers 
brigands,  bandits,  or  those  enemies  of  an  inferior  class 
to  whom  the  Romans  did  not  accord  the  honor  of 
death  by  the  sword.*  It  was  the  chimerical  “ king 
of  the  Jews,”  not  the  heterodox  dogmatist,  who  wa, 
punished.  In  consequence  of  the  same  idea,  the  exe* 
cution  was  of  necessity  abandoned  to  the  Romans.  W 

• Jos.,  An<.,  XX,  IX.  1.  The  Talmud,  which  represents  the  condemnation  of 
Jesus  as  wholly  religious,  declares,  indeed,  that  he  was  stoned,  or  at  least  that, 
after  haymE  suspended,  he  was  stoned,  as  often  happened  (Mischna,  Saf^ 

hgdrin,  VI,  4)  Talm  of  Jems.,  Sa/rihedrin,  xiv,  !• : Talm.  of  Bab.,  same  treatise 
48a,tt7  a. 


S44 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


know  that,  among  the  Romans,  soldiers,  slaughter  be> 
ing  tlieir  occupation,  performed  the  office  of  execa* 
tioners.  Jesus  was  therefore  delivered  to  a cohort  of 
auxiliary  trcops,  and  all  the  horror  of  the  tortures  in 
troduced  by  the  cruel  customs  of  the  new  conquerors 
was  unfolded  before  him.  It  was  about  noon.*  He 
was  dressed  in  his  clothes  which  they  had  taken  off  to 
parade  him  before  the  people,  and  as  the  cohort  had 
already  in  reserve  two  thieves  to  be  executed,  they  put 
the  three  prisoners  together,  and  the  cortege  took  up 
its  march  for  the  place  of  execution. 

This  place  was  a spot  called  Golgotha,  situated  out- 
side of  Jerusalem,  but  near  the  walls  of  the  city  f The 
name  Golgotha  signifies  skull ; it  corresponds^  it  seems, 
to  our  word  Ghaumont  [Baldmount]  and  probably 
designates  a smooth  hill.  Laving  the  form  of  a bald^ 
skull.  We  know  not  with  exactitude  the  tuation  of 
this  hill.  It  was  surely  to  the  north  or  m I'th-west  of 
the  city,  in  the  high  rolling  plain  which  is  bounded  by 
the  walls  and  the  two  valleys  of  Cedron  and  Hinnorn,:|; 
a miserable  region,  made  still  more  melancholy  by 
the  disagreeable  incidents  of  its  proximity  to  a great 
city.  It  is  difficult  to  place  Golgotha  on  the  precise 
spot  where,  since  Constantine,  all  Christendom  has  re- 
vered it.  I This  spot  is  too  near  the  interior  of  the  city, 

* John,  XIX,  14.  According  to  Mark,  xv,  25,  it  could  hardly  have  been  after 
o^clock  in  the  morning,  since,  according  to  that  Evangelist,  Jesus  was  crucided 
t nine  o’clock. 

+ Matt.,  xxvfi,  33;  Mark,  xv,  22;  John,  xix,  20;  Heb.,  xiii,  12. 

I Golgotha,  indeed,  seems  to  have  some  relation  to  the  hill  of  Oard)  and  the 
locality  of  Goath,  mentioned  in  Jeremiah,  xxxi,  39.  Now,  these  two  places  ap- 
pear to  have  been  to  the  northwest  of  the  city.  I should  incline  to  place  the 
ipot  where  Jesus  was  crucified  near  to  the  extreme  angle  which  the  existing  wall 
makes  towards  the  west,  or,  perhaps,  on  the  mounds  which  overlook  the  valley 
Hinnom,  above  Birket-MamiUa. 

II  The  proofs  by  which  it  has  been  attempted  to  show  that  the  Holy  Sepulchm 
oas  been  displaced  since  Constantine,  lack  force. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


346 


and  we  ^re  inclined  to  believe  that  in  the  time  of  Je- 
BUS  it  was  comprised  within  the  circuit  of  the  walls.* 
lie  who  was  condemned  to  crucifixion  had  himself 
to  bear  the  instrument  of  his  torture.f  But  Jesus, 
weaker  than  his  two  companions,  could  not  bear  his. 
The  squad  met  a certain  Simon  of  Gyrene,  who  waa 
returning  from  the  country,  and  the  soldiers,  with  the 
rough  procedure  of  a foreign  garrison,  forced  him  to 
bear  the  fatal  tree.  Perhaps  they  exercised  in  this  a 
recognized  right  of  impressment,  Romans  not  being 
able  to  camber  themselves  with  the  infamous  wood. 
It  seems  that  afterwards  Simon  belonged  to  the  Chris- 
tian community.  His  two  sons,  Alexander  and  Ru- 
fus,:]: were  well  known  in  it.  He  related  perhaps 
more  than  one  circumstance  which  he  had  witnessed. 
No  disciple  was  at  this  time  near  Jesus. i 


* M.  de  Vogue  has  discovered,  84  yards  east  of  the  traditional  site  of  Calvary, 
a piece  of  Judaic  wall  analogous  to  that  of  Hebron,  which,  if  it  belongs  to  the 
inclosure  of  the  time  of  Jesus,  would  leave  this  traditional  site  outside  of  the 
city.  The  existence  of  a sepulchral  cave  (that  which  is  called  the  ‘‘  Tomb  of  Jo> 
Beph  of  Arimathea  ”)  under  the  wall  of  the  cupola  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  would 
lead  also  to  the  supposition  that  this  place  was  without  the  walls.  Two  histori- 
cal considerations,  one  of  which  is  strong,  can,  moreover,  be  invoked  in  favor  oi 
the  tradition.  The  first  is,  that  it  would  have  been  singular  that  those  who,  un- 
der Constantine,  sought  to  fix  the  cvangeUcal  topography,  should  not  have  been 
stopped  by  the  objection  which  results  from  John,  xix,  and  He6.,  xiii,  12. 
How,  if  free  in  their  choice,  could  they  have  wantonly  exposed  themselves  to  so 
grave  a difliculity  ? The  second  consideration  is.  that  they  had,  to  guide  them, 
in  the  time  of  Constantine,  the  ruins  of  an  edifice,  the  temple  of  Venus  upon 
Golgotha,  built  by  Hadrian.  We  are  therefore  at  times  forced  to  believe  that  the 
work  of  the  topographical  devotees  of  the  time  of  Constantine  was  serious,  that 
they  sought  indications,  and  that,  although  they  did  not  reject  certain  pious 
frauds,  they  were  guided  by  analogies.  Had  they  followed  a vain  caprice  only, 
they  would  have  placed  Golgotha  at  a more  commanding  spot,  at  the  summit  of 
some  one  of  the  mounds  near  Jerusalem,  in  order  to  satisfy  the  Christian  imagi- 
nation, which  at  an  early  day  insisted  that  the  death  of  Christ  took  place  upon  a 
mountain.  But  the  difficulty  of  enclosures  is  grave.  Add  that  the  erection  o< 
the  temple  of  Venus  upon  Golgotha  proves  very  little.  Eusebius  {Vita  Const  ^ 
*TI,  26),  Socrates  {H.  E.,  1, 17),  Sozomen  {H.  E.,  II,  1),  and  St.  .Jerome  (Epigt.^ 
Lix,  ad  Paulin.) , say  indeed  that  there  was  a sanctuary  of  Venus  upon  the  sit« 
vhich  they  believed  to  be  that  of  the  holy  sepulchre;  but  it  ft  not  certain  : first, 
hat  Hadrian  built  it;  second,  that  he  built  it  upon  a spot  which  was  called  in  hii 
time  “ Golgotha;”  third,  that  he  had  the  intention  of  building  it  at  the  plan# 
where  Jesus  suffered  death. 

+ Plutarch,  Deseranum.  wind.,  19;  Artemidorus,  Onirocrit,  ii,  56. 
f Mark,  xv,  21.  • 

I The  circumstance,  Zrwfec,  XXIII,  2‘’'-3l,  is  one  of  those  in  whifh  we  perctiVt 
the  work  of  a pious  and  tender  imagination.  The  words  which  are  here  attribv 
led  to  Jesus  could  have  been  written  only  after  the  siege  of  Jerusalem 

15* 


346 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


Tliey  finally  reached  the  place  of  execution  Accord 
ing  to  Jewish  usage,  the  victims  were  ofiered  a highly 
spiced  wine,  an  intoxicating  drink,  which  from  a sen- 
timent of  pity  was  given  to  the  sufferer  to  stupifj 
him.*  It  seems  that  the  women  of  Jerusalem  them 
selves  often  brought  to  the  unfortunates  who  were  led 
out  to  torture  this  wine  of  the  dying ; when  none  of 
them  came  it  was  bought  at  the  expense  of  the  public 
treasury.!  Jesus,  after  having  touched  the  cup  to  his 
lips,  refused  to  drink. ! This  sad  solace  of  common 
criminals  was  uiisuited  to  his  lofty  nature.  He  pre- 
ferred to  go  out  of  life  with  his  mind  perfectly  un- 
clouded, and  to  await  with  full  consciousness  the 
death  which  he  had  wished  and  invoked.  He  was 
then  despoiled  of  his  garments!  and  fastened  to  the 
cross.  The  cross  was  composed  of  two  beams  attached 
in  the  form  of  a T.§  It  was  quite  low,  so  low  that  the 
feet  of  the  victim  almost  touched  the  ground.  The 
cross  was  first  set  up,^  then  the  prisoner  was  fastened 
to  it  by  driving  nails  through  his  hands ; the  feet  were 
often  nailed.,  sometimes  merely  tied  with  cords.**  A 
billet  of  wood,  a sort  of  arm,  was  fastened  to  the  stem 
of  the  cross,  towards  the  middle,  and  passed  between 
the  legs  of  the  victim,  who  rested  upon  it.ff  Without 
this  the  hands  would  have  been  torn  and  the  body 
would  have  sunk  down.  At  other  times,  a horizontal 


• Talm.  of  Bab.,  Somhedrin ; fol.  43  a.  Comp.  Prow.,  xxi,  6. 

+ Talm.  of  Bab.,*S'an/iedrin,l.  c.  ^ ^ x 

t Mark,  xv,  23.  Matt. , xx^ii,  34,  falsifies  this  circumstance,  m order  to  obt»l 

a messianic  allusion  to  Ps.,  Lxix,  22.  ^ ^ . 

B Matt. , XXVII, 36 ; Mark,  xv,  24;  John,  xix. 23.  Cf.  Artemidorus,  Onirocr.,  ii,  63 
■5  Lucian,  JvA  voc.,  12.  Compare  the  grotesque  crucifix  drawn  at  Rome  upc< 
% ^11  of  Mount  Palatine,  CiviUa  caMolicay  fasc.  clxi,  p.  529  seqq. 
f Jos.,  B.  J.,  VII,  VI,  4;  Cic.,  In  Verr.,  V,  66;  Xenoph.  Lphe.,  E^hestam,  rv,  1 
Luke,  XXIV,  39;  John,  xx  25-27;  Plautus,  Mostdlwrixiy  II,  i,  18 . Lucan,  Phan. 
VI  643  seqq.,  547;  Justin,  IHai.  cum  Tryph.,  97;  Tertullian,  Adv.  MarcionanyUit  If 
Iieiisus,  Adv.  hcer.,  IX,  24,  Justin,  Dial,  cum  Tryph.^  91 


wording  which  would  imply  only  that  Jesus  had  said 
that  he  was  the  king  of  the  Jews.  But  Pilate,  already 
disgusted  with  the  case,  refused  to  make  any  change  ic 
what  was  written.* * * § 

His  disciples  had  fled.  John  nevertheless  declare* 
hat  he  was  present  and  remained  all  the  while  stand 
ng  at  the  foot  of  the  cross.f  We  can  affirm  with 
more  certainty  that  the  faithful  women  of  Galilee,  who 
Lad  followed  Jesus  to  Jerusalem,  and  continued  to 
serve  him,  did  not  abandon  him.  Mary  Cleophas, 
Mary  Magdalene,  Joanna,  the  wife  of  Chuza,  Salome, 
and  others  besides,  stood  at  a distance^  and  watched 
him.j  If  we  may  believe  John,§  Mary,  the  mother 
of  Jesus,  was  also  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  and  Jesus, 
seeing  his  mother  and  his  beloved  disciple  together, 
said  to  him  : Behold  thy  mother,”  and  to  her : Be- 

hold thy  son.”  But  we  cannot  understand  how  the 
synoptic  evangelists,  who  mention  the  other  women  by 
name,  should  have  omitted  her  whose  presence  was  so 
striking  a fact.  Perhaps  indeed  the  extreme  elevation 
of  the  character  of  Jesus  does  not  render  such  a per- 
sonal tenderness  probable,  at  the  moment  when,  en- 

• John,  XIX,  19-22.  + John,  xix,  25  seqq. 

t The  synoptics  agree  in  placing  the  faithful  group  “far’»  from  the  cross 
John  says;  “ by  ” controlled  by  his  desire  to  be  brought  very  near  to  the  cross 
of  Jesus. 

U Matt,  XXVII,  65-56;  Mark,  xv,  40-41;  Luke,  xxiii,  49,  55;  xxiv,  10;  John. 
XIX,  25.  Cf.  Luke,  XXIII,  27-31.  * 

§ John,  XIX,  25  seqq.  Luke,  always  occupying  middle  ground  between  tht 
two  first  synoptics  and  John,  gives  “ all  his  acquaintance  ’’  as  present,  but  at  » 
istance  (XXIII,  49).  The  expression  yvcAJO'Toi  may,  it  is  true,  refer  to  “ rela 
res.’  Luke,  however,  (ii,  44) , distinguishes  the  yvwo'T'Wj  from  the  (fvyySvsTc 
We  should  add  that  the  best  manuscripts  have  o\  yvuxfToi  au<rw,  and  not 
I yvu)(troi  auTou.  In  the4cfe  (i,  14),  Mary,  the  mother  of  Jesus,  is  also  placed 

m company  with  the  Galilean  women.  Luke,  moreover  (ii,  35)  predicts  that  a 
iword  of  grief  shall  pierce  her  soul.  But  we  can  the  less  explain  why  h^  omito 
liei  It  the  cross.  ^ -mx 


tablet  was  fixed  at  the  bight  of  the  feet  and  sustained 
them.* 

Jesus  tasted  these  horrors  in  all  their  atrocity.  A 
burning  thirst,  one  of  the  tortures  of  crucifixion, f de- 
roured  him.  He  asked  for  drink.  There  was  at  han 
i cup  of  the  ordinary  drink  of  the  Roman  soldiers, 
mixture  of  vinegar  and  water,  called  posca.  Soldiers 
had  to  carry  i\\Qiv  posca  with  them  in  all  their  expe* 
ditions,^  among  which  executions  were  counted.  A 
soldier  dipped  a sponge  in  this  drink,  put  it  on  the  end 
of  a reed,  and  bore  it  to  the  lips  of  Jesus,  who  sucked 
it.|  The  thieves  were  crucified  on  either  side.  The 
executioners,  to  whom  were  ordinarily  abandoned  the 
minor  spoils  {pannicularia)  of  criminals,!  drew  lots 
for  his  garments,  and,  seated  at  the  foot  of  the  cross, 
guarded  him.^  According  to  one  tradition,  Jesus  pro- 
nounced the  words,  which  were  in  his  heart  if  not  up- 
on his  lips : “ Father,  forgive  them  ; for  they  know  not 
what  they  do.”** 

An  inscription,  in  accordance  with  the  Roman  cus- 
tom, was  attached  to  the  top  of  the  cross,  bearing  in 
three  languages,  Hebrew,  Greek  and  Latin  : the  kino 
OF  THE  JEWS.  There  was  in  this  wording  something 
humiliating  and  opprobrious  to  the  nation.  The  nu- 
merous passers  who  read  it  were  shocked  by  it.  The 
priests  sent  word  to  Pilate  that  he  ought  to  adopt  a 

• 

♦ See  the  graffito  previously  cited. 

+ See  the  Arabic  text  published  by  Kosegarten,  Chrest.  arab  p.  64. 

i Spartianus,  Life  of  Hadrian,  10;  Vulcatius  Gallicanus,  Life  of  Avidius  Caf 
Ins,  5. 

I Matt.  XXVII,  48;  Mark,xv,  36;  Luke,  xxiii,  36;  John,  xix,  28-30. 

V Dig- , XL VII,  XX,  De  bmis  damnat. , 6,  Hadrian  limited  this  usage, 

^ Matt. , xxvii,  36.  Cf.  Petronius,  Satyr. , cxi,  cxii. 

**  Luke.  XXIII,  34.  In  general  the  last  words  attributed  to  Jesus,  especially  at 
Luke  reports  them,  are  doubtful.  The  intention  of  edification,  or  of  showing 
the  accomplishment  of  the  prophecies,  is  there  evident.  In  such  cases,  moreover, 
each  understands  in  his  own  way.  The  last  words  of  celebrated  victims  are  al- 
ways understood  in  two  or  three  completely  dififereut  ways,  by  the  nearesi 
Witnesses. 


tirely  absorbed  in  lu3’‘work,  be  no  longer  existed  sav« 
for  humanity.* 

Aside  from  this  little  group  of  women,  who  from 
afar  comforted  his  eyes,  Jesus  had  before  him  only  tho 
pectacle  of  human  debasement  or  stupidity.  The 
'assers  insulted  him.  He  heard  about  him  vulgar 
raillery,  and  his  death-cries  of  anguish  turned  into 
hateful  mockeries.  Ah  ! behold  him,  said  they,  he 
who  called  himself  Son  of  God  ! Let  his  father  come 
now  and  deliver  him,  if  he  will  have  him.”  He 
saved  others,”  it  was  muttered,  ^‘himself  he  cannot 
save.  If  he  be  the  King  of  Israel,  let  him  now  come 
down  from  the  cross,  and  we  will  believe  him !” 
‘‘  Ah,  said  a third,  thou  that  destroyest  the  temple  and 
buildest  it  in  three  days,  save  thyself,  and  come 
down.”f  Some,  partially  aware  of  his  apocalyptic 
ideas,  thought  they  heard  him  call  Elias,  and  said  : 

Let  us  see  whether  Elias  will  come  to  take  him 
down.”  It  appears  that  the  two  thieves  crucified 
beside  him  also  reviled  him.;j:  The  sky  was  dark  ;| 

the  earth,  as  in  all  the  environs  of  Jerusalem,  dry  and 
melancholy.  For  a moment,  according  to  some  ac 
counts,  his  heart  failed  him  ; a cloud  concealed  the 
face  of  his  Father ; he  endured  an  agony  of  despair, 
a thousand  times  more  excruciating  than  all  his  tor- 
tures. He  saw  nothing  but  the  ingratitude  of  man ; 


This  is,  in  my  judgment,  one  ol  those  relations  in  which  the  personality  of 
9 '>hn , and  his  desire  to  give  himself  importance,  betrays  itself.  John , after  tho 
leath  of  Jesus,  appears  in  fact  to  have  received  the  mother  of  Jesus,  and  to  hava 
tdofted  her  (John,  XIX,  27).  The  great  consideration  which  Mary  enjoyed  in 
the  infant  church,  caused  him  doubtless  to  declare  that  Jesus,  whose  favorite 
disciple  he  desired  to  be  considered,  had,  at  death,  commended  to  him  that  which 
he  held  most  dear.  The  presence  of  this  precious  charge  assured  him  a sort  of 
precedence  over  the  other  apostles,  and  gave  high  authority  to  his  teaching. 

+ Matt..  XXVII,  40  seqq. ; Mark,  xv,  29  seqq. 

j:  Matt. , XXVII.  44;  Mark,  xv,  32.  Luke,  following  his  desire  for  the  con’vereion 
of  f^inners,  has  here  modified  the  tradition. 

I Matt.,  XXVII,  46;  Murk,  xv,  33;  Luke,  xxiii.  44. 


perhaps  uo  repented  having  suffered  for  a vile  rao^i 
and  he  cried  out : ‘‘  My  God,  ray  God,  why  hast  thou 
forsaken  me?”  But  his  divine  instinct  resumed  ita 
sway.  In  proportion  as  the  life  of  his  body  was 
extinguished,  his  soul  became  serene  and  gradu- 
ally returned  to  its  celestial  source.  He  regained 
the  consciousness  of  his  mission ; he  saw  in  bis 
death  the  salvation  of  the  world ; he  lost  sight  of  the 
hideous  spectacle  exhibited  at  his  feet,  and,  thoroughly 
made  one  with  his  Father,  he  commenced  upon  the 
cross  the  divine  life  which  he  was  to  lead  in  the  heart 
of  humanity  for  infinite  ages. 

The  peculiar  atrocity  of  crucifixion  was  that  a man 
might  live  three  or  four  days  in  this  horrible  condi- 
tion upon  the  seat  of  anguish.*  The  hemorrhage 
of  the  hands  very  soon  ceased  and  was  not  mor- 
tal Tlie  true  cause  of  death  was  the  unnatural  po- 
sition of  the  body,  which  induced  a hideous  disturb- 
ance in  the  circulation,  fearful  pains  in  the  head 
and  heart,  and  finally  rigidity  of  the  limbs.  Men 
of  strong  constitutions  died  only  of  hunger.f  The 
principal  idea  of  this  cruel  punishment  was  not  to  kill 
the  criminal  directly  by  absolute  1 -sions,  bu^  to  ex 
pose  the  slave,  nailed  by  the  hands  of  which  he  had  not 
known  how  to  make  proper  use,  and  let  him  rot  upon  the 
tree.  The  delicate  organization  of  Jesus  preserved  him 
from  this  slow  agony.  Everything  leads  to  the  belief 
that  the  rupture  of  a blood-vessel  produced  at  the  end 
yf  three  hours,  immediate  death.  A few  moments  bo- 
foi  e he  rendered  up  his  soul,  his  voice  was  still  strong.^ 


♦ Petroniu8,5a«.,  CXI  seqq.;  OTigen^  In  Matt.  Comment.  Seri€Sy  l40;  the  Ajrahil 
lex!  published  in  Kosegerten,  op.  cU.y  p.  63  seqq.  , 

|fhifiebius,i/w<.  eccl.,TIir,8.  I Matt.,  xxvii.46:  Mark,  xv,  34 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


351 


Suddenly  he  uttered  a terrible  cry,*  ia  which  some 
heard:  Father,  into  thy  hands  I commend  my 

spirit  I"’ and  which  others,  more  attentive  to  the  pro 
phecies,  rendered  by  these  words : All  things  are  ac- 

complished !”  His  head  fell  upon  his  breast,  and  ha 
expired. 

Repose  now  in  thy  glory,  noble  founder.  Thy  work 
is  finished ; thy  divinity  is  established.  Fear  no  more 
to  see  the  edifice  of  thy  labors  fall  by  any  fault. 
Henceforth,  beyond  the  reach  of  frailty,  thou  shalt 
witness  from  the  heights  of  divine  peace,  the  infinite 
results  of  thy  acts.  At  the  price  of  a few  hours  of  suf- 
fering, which  did  not  even  reach  thy  grand  soul,  thou 
hast  bought  the  most  complete  immortality.  For 
thousands  of  years,  the  world  will  depend  on  thee  1 
Banner  of  our  contests,  thou  shalt  be  the  standard 
about  which  the  hottest  battle  will  be  given.  A 
thousand  times  more  alive,  a thousand  times  more  be- 
loved, since  thy  death  than  during  thy  passage  hero 
below,  thou  shalt  become  the  corner-stone  of  humanity 
BO  entirely,  that  to  tear  thy  name  from  this  world 
would  be  to  rend  it  to  its  foundations.  Between  thee 
and  God,  there  will  no  longer  be  any  distinction.  Com* 
plete  conqueror  of  death,  take  possession  of  thy  king- 
dom, whither  shall  follow  thee,  by  the  royal  road  which 
th  )u  hast  traced,  ages  of  worshippers. 

* MaU.,  xxYii,  50;  Mark,  xv,  37;  Luke,  xxiii,  46;  John,  xiz,  M. 


S52 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITT. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


^Bsns  AT  THH  TOMB 

It  was  abi^ut  three  o’clock  in  the  afternoon,  accord 
iiig  to  our  raethod  of  reckoning,*  when  Jesus  expired. 
A Jewish  lawf  prohibited  leaving  a dead  body  sus- 
pended on  the  cross  beyond  the  evening  of  tlie  day 
of  execution.  It  is  not  probable  that,  in  executions 
conducted  by  the  Romans,  this  command  was  ob- 
served. But  as  tlie  next  day  was  the  Sabbath,  and  a 
Sabbath  of  peculiar  solemnity,  the  Jews  expressed  to 
the  Roman  authority:}:  the  desire  that  this  holy  day 
should  not  be  polluted  by  such  a spectacle.|  Their 
request  was  acceded  to ; orders  were  given  to  hasten 
the  death  of  the  three  prisoners,  and  to  take  them 
down  from  the  cross.  The  soldiers  executed  this 
•command  by  applying  to  the  two  thieves  a second 
punishment,  much  more  speedy  than  that  of  the  cross, 
the  crurifragium^  the  breaking  of  the  legs,§  the  ordiii- 
iry  punishment  of  slaves  and  prisoners  of  war.  As  U 

* Matt.,  XXVII,  46;  Mark,  xv,  37;  Luke,  xxiii,  44.  Comp.  John,  xix,  14. 

^ Deut.y  XXI,  22-23;  Joshua,  viii,  29;  x,  26  seqq.  Cf.  Jos.,  .B.  J , IV,  ?,  2 
llischna,  Sanhedrin.,  vi,  5. 

% John  says  “ to  Pilate”,  but  this  cannot  be,  for  Mark  (xv,  44-45)  has  it  thal 
Pilate  in  the  evening  was  yet  ignorant  of  the  death  of  Jesus. 

2 Compare  Philo,  In  Flaccum,  ^ 10. 

There  is  no  other  example  or  the  crurifragium  applied  after  crucifixion.  Bu 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


353 


Jesus,  they  found  him  dead,  and  did  not  deem  it  ne 
ccssary  to  break  his  legs.  One  of  them,  however,  it 
order  to  remove  all  uncertainty  of  tlie  actual  death 
of  the  third  victim,  and  to  ascertain  whether  there 
Btill  remained  any  spark  of  life,  pierced  his  side  with 
ft  lance.  They  thought  that  they  saw  blood  and  water 
flow  out,  which  was  regarded  as  a sign  of  the  cessation 
of  life. 

John,  who  claims  that  he  saw  it,*  dwells  strongly 
upon  this  circumstance.  It  is  evident  clearly  that 
doubts  arose  as  to  the  reality  of  the  death  of  Je- 
sus. A few  hours  of  suspension  upon  the  cross  seemed 
to  persons  accustomed  to  see  executions  altogether  in- 
BuflScient  to  produce  such  a result.  Many  cases  were 
cited  of  crucified  persons  who,  taken  down  in  time, 
had  been  restored  to  life  by  energetic  remedies.f  Ori- 
gen  afterwards  believed  himself  compelled  to  invoke 
the  miraculous  in  order  to  explain  so  speedy  an  end.:|: 
The  same  astonishment  is  found  in  the  narrative  of 
Mark. I In  reality,  the  best  guarantee  which  the  his- 
torian possesses  upon  a point  of  this  nature,  is  the  sus- 
picious hatred  of  the  enemies  of  Jesus.  It  is  doubtful 
whetherthe  Jews  were  thus  early  affected  by  the  fear  lest 
Jesus  should  be  thought  to  be  raised  from  the  dead ; 
but  at  all  events  they  must  have  made  certain. that  he 
was  actually  dead.  Whatever  may  have  been  at  cer- 
tain periods  the  negligence  of  the  ancients  in  ail  ihat 
Dertains  to  legal  verification  and  the  strict  conduc  e of 

flfairs,  we  cannot  believe  that  those  who  were  in- 

in  order  to  abridge  the  tortures  of  the  sufferer,  they  gave  him  a flnif  ^ 
Itroke.  See  the  passage  of  Ibn-Hischam,  translated  in  the  Zeitschr^tfvr  die  A ^<5 
iei  Morgenlcmdes,  I,  p.  99-100. 

• John,  XIX,  31-36.  + Herodotus,  VII,  194:  Jos.,  Ft<a,  7* 

I ill  Matth.  OommenlL  series,  140  | Mark,  xv,  44-45. 


S64 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


terested  did  not  take  some  precautions  in  this  re 
gard.* 

According  to  the  Roman  custom,  the  body  of  Jesua 
should  have  remained  suspended  to  become  the  prey 
of  the  birds.f  According  to  the  Jewish  law,  taken 
away  at  night,  it  should  have  been  carried  to  the  infa 
inous  spot  set  apart  for  the  sepulture  of  criminals,^ 
Had  Jesus  numbered  among  his  disciples  only  his 
poor  Galileans,  timid  and  without  credit,  the  latter 
rule  would  have  been  followed.  But  we  have  seen 
that  in  spite  of  his  limited  success  at  Jerusalem,  Jesus 
had  gained  the  sympathy  of  some  persons  of  consid- 
eration, who  were  awaiting  the  kingdom  of  God,  and 
who,  without  avowing  themselves  his  disciples,  felt 
a very  deep  attachment  towards  him.  One  of  these 
persons,  Joseph  of  the  little  village  of  Arimathea, 
{Ha'raviathaim)\  went  at  evening  and  asked  the  body 
of  the  procurator.§  Joseph  was  a rich  and  honorable 
man,  a member  of  the  Sanhedrin.  The  Roman  law 
at  that  time  directed,  moreover,  that  the  dead  body  of 
the  sufferer  should  be  given  to  whomsoever  claimed 
it.^  Pilate,  who  was  ignorant  of  the  circumstance  of 
the  crurifragium^  was  astonished  that  Jesus  should  be 
dead  so  soon,  and  sent  for  the  centurion  who  conduct* 
ed  the  execution,  to  know  what  it  meant  After  hav- 
ing received  the  assurances  of  the  centurion,  Pilate 
accorded  to  Joseph  the  object  of  his  request  The 
body,  probably,  had  already  been  taken  down  from 

• The  necessities  of  the  Christian  argument  afterwards  led  to  the  exaggeration 
ji^f  these  precautions,  especially  when  the  Jews  had  adopted  the  theory  that  the 
body  of  Jesus  had  been  stolen.  Matt. , xxvii,  62  seqq. ; xxviii,  11 15. 
t Horace,  I,  xvi,  48;  Juvenal,  XIV,  77;  Lucan,  VI,  544;  Plautuai, 

II,  IV,  19;  Artemidorus,  Onir.,  II,  63;  Pliny,  XXXVI,  24;  PIutarch| 
Life  of  Cleomenes,  39;  Petronius,  Sat. , cxi-cxii.  % Mischna,  Sanhedrin,  vi,  6. 

]j  Probably  identical  with  the  ancient  Kama  of  Samuel,  in  the  tribe  of  Ephraim 
6 Matt.,  XXVII,  5T  seqq.;  Mark,  xv,  42  seqq. ; Luke,  xxiii,  50  seqq.;  John,  xix 
88  seqq.  1[  Digest,  XL VIII,  xxiv,  Dt  (Xtdaverilms puniUr^^ 


LIFE  OF  JESUS.  355 

the  cross.  It  was  delivered  to  Joseph  to  be  dealt  with 
as  he  chose. 

Another  secret  friend,  Nicodomus,*  whom  we  have 
already  seen  more  than  once  using  his  influence  in  fa- 
vor of  Jesus,  is  now  met  again.  He  came  bringing  aa 
ample  store  of  the  substances  necessary  for  embalm- 
ing.  Joseph  and  Nicodernus  buried  Jesus  according 
to  the  Jewish  custom,  that  is,  by  enveloping  him  in  a 
shroud  with  myrrh  and  aloes.  The  Galilean  women 
were  present,f  and  doubtless  accompanied  the  scene 
with  tears  and  piercing  cries. 

It  was  late,  and  all  this  was  done  in  great  haste. 
They  had  not  yet  chosen  a final  resting-place  for  the 
body.  The  removal  would,  moreover,  have  occupied 
them  until  a late  hour,  and  necessitated  a violation  of 
the  Sabbath ; now  the  disciples  still  conscientiously 
observed  the  commands  of  the  Jewish  law.  They  de- 
cided therefore  in  favor  of  a temporary  burial.^  There 
was  near  by  in  a garden,  a tomb  recently  cut  in  the 
rock,  which  had  never  been  used.  It  belonged  proba- 
bly to  some  believer. I These  sepulchres,  when  in- 
tended for  a single  body,  were  composed  of  a little 
chamber,  in  tlie  rear  of  which  the  place  for  the  body 
was  indicated  by  a trough  or  couch  scooped  out  in 
the  wall  and  surmounted  by  an  arch.§  As  these  caves 

* John,  XIX,  39  seqq.  f Matt.,  xxvii,  61-  Mark,  xv,  47;  Luke,  xxiii,  55. 

1 John,  XIX,  41-42. 

} A tradition  (Matt.,  xxvii,  60)  designates  Joseph  of  Arimathea  as  the  owner 
of  the  vault. 

^ The  vault  which,  in  the  time  of  Constantine,  was  considered  the  tomb  of 
Christ,  has  this  form,  as  we  may  conclude  from  the  description  of  Arculfe  (in 
Mabillon,  Acta  SS.  Ord.  S.  Bened. , sect.  Ill,  pars  II,  p.  604)  and  vague  traditions 
which  are  still  found  at  Jerusalem  among  the  Greek  clergy  concerning  the  state  of 
the  rock  now  hidden  by  the  edicule  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  But  the  indices 
which  were  relied  on  in  Constantine’s  time  for  the  identification  of  this  tomb 
with  that  of  Christ  were  of  little  or  no  value  (see  especially  Sozomen,  H.  II, 

1);.  Even  should  we  admit  the  position  of  Golgotha  as  nearly  exact,  the  Holy 
Sepulchre  would  still  have  no  serious  mark  of  authenticity.  Ax.  all  events,  thf 
aspect  cf  the  places  has  been  totally  changed. 


356 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


were  cut  in  the  sides  of  inclined  rocks,  they  were  en* 
tered  on  a level  with  the  ground ; the  entrance  was 
closed  by  a stone  very  difficult  to  handle.  Jesus  was 
laid  in  the  vault ; the  stone  was  rolled  to  the  en- 
trance, and  they  promised  themselves  to  return  and 
give  him  a more  complete  sepulture.  But  the  morrow 
feeing  a solemn  Sabbath,  the  work  was  remitted  to  the 
*hird  day.* 

The  women  retired,  after  having  carefully  noticed 
xiow  the  body  was  laid.  They  employed  the  hours  of 
tlie  evening  which  remained  in  making  additional  pre 
parations  for  embalming.  On  Saturday  all  rested.f 

On  Sunday  morning,  the  women,  Mary  Magdalene 
first  of  all,  came  very  early  to  the  tornb.:j:  The  stone 

was  rolled  away  from  the  opening,  and  the  body  was 
no  longer  in  the  place  where  they  had  laid  it.  At  the 
same  time,  the  strangest  reports  began  to  spread 
through  the  Christian  community.  The  cry,  He  is 
risen  !”  ran  among  the  disciples  like  lightning.  Love 
gave  it  everywhere  facile  credence.  What  had  taken 
place  ? In  treating  of  the  history  of  the  apostles  it  is 
that  we  shall  have  to  examine  this  point,  and  seek  the 
origin  of  the  legends  relating  to  the  resurrection. 
The  life  of  Jesus,  to  the  historian,  ends  with  his  last 
sigh.  But  so  deep  was  the  trace  which  he  had  left  in 
the  hearts  of  his  disciples  and  of  a few  devoted  wo- 
men, that,  for  weeks  to  come,  he  was  to  them  living 
and  consoling.  Had  his  body  been  taken  away,|  or  did 
enthusiasm,  always  credulous,  afterwards  generate  the 
mass  of  accounts  by  which  faith  in  the  resurrection 
was  sought  to  be  established  ? This,  for  want  of  pe* 

♦ Luke,  XXIII.  66.  f Luke,  xxiii,  64  66. 

t Matt. ; XXVIII,  1;  Mark,  xvi,  1;  Luke,  xxiv  1;  John,  xx.  i. 

I See  Matt, XXVIII,  15;  John,  xx,2. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


remptory  evidence,  we  shall  never  know.  We  may 
say,  however,  that  the  strong  imagination  of  Mary 
Magdalene*  here  enacted  a piincipal  part.f  Divine 
power  of  love ! sacred  moments  in  which  the  passion 
)f  a hallucinated  woman  gives  to  the  world  a resur- 
rected Godl 

• She  had  been  possessed  of  seven  devils  (Mark,  xvi,  9;  Luke,  viii,  2). 

f This  is  specially  evident  from  Mark,  xvi,  9 seqq.  These  verses  form  a con- 
elusion  of  the  second  Gospel,  different  from  the  conclusion  xvi,  1-8,  after  wMoh 
many  manuscripts  stop.  In  the  fourth  Gospel  (xx,  1-2, 11  * 18)  Mmry  Ms|^ 

dalese  is  also  the  sole  primitive  witness  of  the  resurreotim 


CHArTEE  XXVII. 


I4f£  OF  THE  BNBKIES  OF  JEBUS. 

According  to  the  calculation  which  we  adopts  the 
death  of  Jesus  took  place  in  the  year  33  of  our  era.** 
It  cannot  in  any  event  have  been  either  before  the 
year  29,  the  preaching  of  John  and  Jesus  having  com- 
menced in  the  year  28, f nor  after  the  year  35,  for  in 
the  3^ear  36,  and,  it  seems,  before  the  Passover,  Pilate 
and  Caiaphas  both  lost  their  oflSces.J  The  death  of 
Jesus  appears,  moreover,  to  have  had  no  connection 
with  their  dismissal.!  In  his  retirement  Pilate  proba- 
bly never  thought  for  a moment  of  the  forgotten  epi- 
sode which  was  to  transmit  his  ghastly  fame  to  the 
most  distant  posterity.  The  successor  of  Caiaphas, 
was  Jonathan,  his  brother-m-law,  a son  of  that  same 
Hanan  who  had  taken  the  leading  part  in  the  prose- 
cution of  Jesus.  The  Sadducee  family  of  Hanan  long 
retained  the  pontificate,  and,  more  powerful  than 
ever,  unceasingly  waged  the  cruel  war  against  the  dis- 
fiples  and  the  family  of  Jesus,  which  it  had  com 

♦ The  year  33  responds  to  one  of  the  requirements  of  the  problem,  namely, 
that  the  14th  of  Nisan  was  Friday.  If  we  reject  the  year  33,  in  order  to  find  a year 
which  fills  this  condition,  we  must  at  least  go  back  to  the  year  29  or  forward  tc 
the  year  36. 

+ Luke,  III,  1.  t Jos.,  Ant,  XVIII,  iv,  2 and  3. 

I The  contrary  assertion  of  Tertullian  and  Eusebius  springs  from  a worthies* 
apocrypha,  (see  Thilo,  Cod,  apocr.,  N.  T.,^.  813seqq.).  The  suicide  of  Filatf 
(Eusebius,  H.  E.^11,  7,  Chron.,  ad  ann.  1 Caii) , appears  also  to  come  from  legen 
tary  sources. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


359 


menced  against  its  founder.  Christianity,  which  owed 
to  him  the  crowning  act  of  its  foundation,  owed  to  him 
also  its  first  martyrs.  Ilanan  was  held  to  be  one  of 
he  most  fortunate  men  of  his  century.*  The  real 
rrjuTderer  of  Jesus  ended  liis  life  at  the  bight  of  honors 
lid  consideration  without  having  doubted  for  a mo- 
ment that  he  had  rendered  a great  service  to  the  na^ 
tion.  His  sons  continued  to  reign  about  the  temple, 
hardly  restrained  by  the  pro-consuls, f and  many  times 
dispensing  with  their  consent  in  the  satisfaction  of 
their  violent  and  haughty  instincts. 

Antipater  and  Herodias  soon  also  disappeared  from 
the  political  scene.  Herod  Agrippa  having  been  ele- 
vated to  the  dignity  of  king  by  Caligula,  the  jealous 
Herodias  swore  that  she  also  would  be  a queen.  Con- 
tinually urged  by  this  ambitious  woman,  who  called 
him  a coward  because  he  endured  a superior  in  his 
family.  Antipater  overcame  his  natural  indolence,  and 
went  to  Rome  to  solicit  the  title  which  his  nephew  had 
just  obtained,  (A.  D.  39.)  But  the  issue  was  most  un- 
fortunate. Accused  by  Herod  Agrippa  to  the  emper- 
or, Antipater  was  dethroned  and  dragged  out  the  rem- 
nant of  his  life  in  exile,  at  Lyons  and  in  Spain.  He- 
rodias followed  him  in  his  disgrace.^  A hundred 
years  at  least  were  yet  to  pass  away  before  the  name 
of  their  obscure  subject,  become  a God,  should  reach 
.,hose  distant  countries  to  recall  upon  their  tombs  the 
murder  of  John  the  Baptist. 

As  to  the  wretched  Judas  of  Kerioth,  there  were 
errible  traditions  of  his  death.  It  is  said  that  with 
the  price  of  his  perfidy  he  had  bought  a field  in  the 

• Job.,  AfU.,  XX,  ix,  1.  f Job.,  I. «. 

% JoB.,ilfU.,XVllI,yii,  1,2;  B.  J.,  II,  ix,  6. 


360 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


environs  of  Jerusalem.  There  was  indeed  to  the  sorith 
of  Mount  Zion,  a place  called  HaTceldama  (the  field  of 
blood.)*  It  was  supposed  that  this  was  the  property 
purchased  by  the  traitor.f  According  to  one  tradition 
he  killed  himself.  According  to  another,  he  had  a 
fall  in  his  field,:]:  in  consequence  of  which  his  bowel 
gushed  out. I According  to  others  he  died  of  a species 
of  dropsy,  accompanied  by  disgusting  circumstances, 
which  were  regarded  as  a chastisement  of  heaven.§ 
Tlie  desire  to  show  in  the  case  of  Judas  the  accom- 
plishment of  the  threats  which  the  Psalmist  pronoun- 
ces against  the  perfidious  friend, T may  have  originated 
these  legends.  It  may  be  that  Judas  retired  upon  his 
property  at  Hakeldama,  led  a peaceful  and  obscure 
life,  while  his  former  friends  were  conquering  the 
world  and  spreading  the  report  of  his  infamy.  It 
may  also  be  that  the  terrible  hatred  which  weighed 
upon  his  head  resulted  in  acts  of  violence,  in  which 
was  seen  the  finger  of  heaven. 

The  great  Christian  retributions  were,  however,  in 
the  remote  future.  The  new  sect  went  for  nothing  in 
the  catastrophe  which  was  soon  tobefal  Judaism.  The 
synagogue  came  to  understand  only  at  a much  later 
day  what  it  is  to  which  men  expose  themselves  by 
applying  the  laws  of  intolerance.  The  empire  was 
certainly  still  farther  from  suspecting  that  its  future 

* St.  Jerome,  De  situ  et  nom.  loc.  hehr.,tit  the  word  Achddama,  Eusebius  (ibid. 
jays  to  the  North.  But  the  Itineraries  confirm  the  reading  of  St.  Jerome.  The 
tradition  which  gives  the  name  of  Haceldama  to  the  burial  ground  at  the  foot  of 
aie  valley  of  Hinnom,  dates  back  at  least  to  the  time  of  Constantine. 

t Acts,i,  18-19.  Matthew,  or  rather  his  interpolator,  has  here  given  a less  sat 
isfactory  turn  to  the  tradition,  in  order  to  attach  to  it  the  circumstance  of  a 
cemetery  for  strangers  near  by. 

t Matt.,  XXVII,  5. 

I ActSy  1.  c. ; Papias,  in  Qilcunineus,  Enarr  in  Act.  Apost.y  II,  and  in  Fr  HunUi. 
Fragm.  Pairum  grocc.  (Hafniae,  1781),  faso.,  I,  p.  17  8eq<l-;  Theophylaotue,  is 
Biath.,  xxTii,  5. 

& Papias,  in  Munter,  1.  c.;  Theophyl actus,  1.  c. 

\ Psalms,  XXIX  and  cix. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


destroyer  was  born.  For  nearly  three  hundred  years 
it  will  contiime  its  course  without  dreaming  that  prin- 
ciples are  developing  by  its  side  which  are  destined 
completely  to  transform  the  world.  At  once  theocra 
tic  and  democratic,  the  idea  thrown  out  by  Jesus  int( 
tlie  world  was,  with  the  invasion  of  the  Germans,  tli  [ 
most  active  cause  of  dissolution  of  the  work  of  the 
Ceesars.  On  the  one  hand,  the  right  of  all  men  to  par- 
ticipate in  the  kingdom  of  God  was  proclaimed.  On 
tlie  other,  religion  was  thenceforth  separated  in  prin- 
ciple from  the  State.  The  rights  of  conscience,  with- 
drawn from  the  political  law,  come  to  constitute  a 
new  power,  ^‘the  spiritual  power.”  This  power  has 
more  than  once  belied  its  origin  ; for  centuries  bish 
ops  have  been  princes  and  the  pope  has  been  a king. 
The  professed  empire  of  souls  has  shown  itself  repeat- 
edly a frightful  tyranny,  employing  to  maintain  its 
authority  the  rack  and  the  stake.  But  the  day  will 
come  when  the  separation  shall  bear  its  fruits,  when 
the  realm  of  the  things  of  the  spirit  shall  cease  to  be 
called  a power,”  that  it  may  be  called  a “ liber- 
ty.” Born  out  of  the  conscience  of  a man  of  the  peo- 
ple, developed  before  the  people,  first  loved  and  ad 
mired  by  the  people,  Christianity  was  stamped  with 
an  original  character  which  shall  never  be  effaced.  It 
was  the  first  triumph  of  the  Be  volution,  the  victory  o! 
jMiblic  opinion,  the  advent  of  the  simple  of  heart,  th 
Inauguration  of  the  beautiful  as  understood  by  th 
people.  Jesus  thus  opened  in  the  aristocratic  societie 
of  antiquity  the  breach  through  which  all  shall  pass. 

The  civil  power,  indeed,  although  not  guilty  of  the 
murder  of  Jesuo,  (it  only  countersigned  the  sentence 
and  that  against  its  will,)  had  yet  to  bear  a heavy  bur 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


den  of  its  responsibility.  In  presiding  over  tlie  scene 
of  Calvary,  the  state  inflicted  on  itself  the  most  serious 
of  blows.  A tradition,  full  of  irreverences  of  all  kinds^ 
became  prevalent,  and  made  the  circuit  of  the  world, 
tradition  in  which  the  constituted  authorities  act  » 
ateful  part,  where  it  is  the  accused  who  is  right, 
where  the  judges  and  the  officers  of  the  law  are 
^eagued  against  the  truth.  Seditious  in  the  highest 
degree,  the  history  of  the  Cruciflxion,  disseminated  by 
thousands  of  popular  images,  exhibited  the  Roman 
eagles  sanctioning  the  most  iniquitous  of  punishments, 
soldiers  executing  it,  a prefect  ordering  it.  What  a 
blow  to  all  established  authorities.  They  have  never 
fairly  recovered  from  it.  How  is  it  possible  to  assume 
with  respect  to  the  common  people  airs  of  infallibility 
when  there  lies  upon  the  conscience  the  great  mistake 
of  Gethsemane 

. ♦ This  popular  sentiment  was  J3t  alive  in  Brittany,  in  the  time  of  my  chilct^ 
hood.  The  gendarme  was  looked  upon  there,  as  the  Jew  is  elsewhere,  ^ith  a 
sort  of  pious  repulsion;  for  it  was  he  who  arrested  Jesus  I 


UFE  OF  JESUS 


36S 


CHAPTER  XXYIIl. 


BtSBHTlAL  CHARACTeB  OF  THB  WORT  OF  *1808. 

Jesus,  it  is  seen,  never  in  his  action  went  out  of 
tlic  Jewish  circle.  Although  his  syrnpatliy  for  all  the 
despised  of  orthodoxy  led  him  to  admit  the  heatlien 
into  the  kingdom  of  God,  although  he  had  more  than 
once  resided  in  a pagan  country,  and  once  or  twice  he 
is  found  in  kindly  relations  with  unbelievers,*  it  may 
be  said  that  his  life  was  spent  entirely  in  the  little 
world,  close  and  narrow  as  it  was,  in  which  he  was 
born.  The  Greek  and  Roman  countries  heard  nothing 
of  him ; his  name  does  not  figure  in  profane  authors 
until  a hundred  years  later,  and  then  only  indirectly, 
in  connection  with  seditious  movements  provoked  by 
his  doctrine,  or  with  persecutions  of  which  his  disci 
pies  were  the  object.f  Within  the  heart  even  of  Ju- 
daism, Jesus  did  not  make  any  durable  impression. 
Philo,  who  died  about  the  year  50,  has  no  glimpse  of 
him.  Josephus,  born  in  the  year  37,  and  writing  ir 
he  last  years  of  the  century,  mentions  his  execution 
m a few  lines, :j:  as  an  event  of  secondary  importance  ; 


• Matt.,  VIII,  6 seqq. ; Luke,  vii,  1 seqq.;  John,  xii  20  seqq  Comp.  Jos., Am 
8VI1I,  III,  3. 

+ Tacitus,  Ann.,  XV,  45;  Suetonius,  Claudius,  26. 

i Ant.,  XVIII,  ij 1, 3.  This  passage  has  been  mutilated  bj  a Christian  hand 


364 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


in  the  enumeration  of  the  sects  of  his  time  he  omita 
the  Christians.*  The  Mischna^  again,  piesents  no 
trace  of  the  new  school ; the  passages  of  the  two  Go- 
maras  in  which  the  founder  of  Christianity  is  named, 
do  not  carry  us  back  beyond  the  fourth  or  fifth  centu- 
rj.f  The  essential  work  of  Jesus  was  the  creation 
aiound  liim  of  a circle  of  disciples  in  whom  he  inspired 
a boundless  attachment,  and  in  whose  breast  he  im- 
planted the  germ  of  his  doctrine.  To  have  made  him- 
self beloved, so  much  that  after  his  death  they  did 
not  cease  to  love  him,’'  this  was  the  crowning  work  ol 
Jesus,  and  that  which  most  impressed  his  cotempora- 
ries4  His  doctrine  was  so  little  dogmatical,  that  he 
never  thought  of  wi  lting  it  or  having  it  written.  A 
man  became  his  disciple,  not  by  believing  this  or  that, 
but  by  following  him  and  loving  him.  A few  sen- 
tences treasured  up  in  the  memory,  and  above  all,  his 
moral  type,  and  the  impression  which  he  had  pro- 
duced, were  all  that  remained  of  him.  Jesus  is  not  a 
founder  of  dogmas,  a maker  of  symbols ; he  is  the 
world’s  initiator  into  a new  spirit.  The  least  Christian 
of  men  were,  on  the  one  hand,  the  doctors  of  the 
Greek  Church,  who  from  the  fourth  century  involved 
Christianity  in  a series  of  puerile  metaphysical  discus- 
sions, and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  scholastics  of  the 
Latin  middle  ages,  who  attempted  to  draw  from  the 
Gospel  the  thousands  of  articles  of  a colossal  Sum- 
nation.”  To  adhere  to  Jesus  in  view  of  the  kingdom 
J God,  was  what  it  was  originally  to  be  a Christian. 

• Ant,  XVIII,  i,  B.J.,  II,  viii;  Fito,  2. 

+ Talm.  of  Jerus.,  AS'cm^edrin,  xiv,  16;  Abodazara^  ii,  2;  SchcCbbath,  xiv,  4;  Talm 
>f'Bab.,  Sanhedrin^  43  a,  67  a;  SchcMathy  104  b,  116  b Comp.  Chagifia,  4 b;  Gittin, 
1 a,  90  a.  The  two  Gemaras  borrow  most  of  their  notions  concerning  Jesai 
from  burlesque  and  obscene  legends,  invented  by  the  adversaries  of  Christianity, 
and  of  no  historic  value. 

X Jos.,  ArU.f  XYIII,  HI,  8 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


36S 


Thus  we  comprehend  how,  by  an  exceptional  desti- 
ny,  pure  Christianity  still  presents  itself,  at  the  end 
of  eighteen  centuries,  with  the  character  of  a iiniver 
sal  and  eternal  religion.  It  is  because  in  fact  the  reli- 
gion of  Jesus  is,  in  some  respects,  the  final  religioL 
The  fruit  of  a perfectly  spontaneous  .movement  of 
souls,  free  at  its  birth  from  every  dogmatic  con 
straint,  having  struggled  three  hundred  years  for  hb 
erty  of  conscience,  Christianity,  in  spite  of  the  falls 
which  followed,  still  gathers  the  fruits  of  this  surpass- 
ing origin.  To  renew  itself,  it  has  only  to  turn  to  the 
Gospel.  The  kingdom  of  God,  as  we  conceive  it,  is 
widely  different  from  the  supernatural  apparition 
which  the  first  Christians  expected  to  see  burst  forth 
in  the  clouds.  But  the  sentiment  which  Jesus  intro- 
duced into  the  world  is  really  ours.  His  perfect  ideal- 
ism is  the  highest  rule  of  unworldly  and  virtuous  life. 
He  has  created  that  heaven  of  free  souls,  in  which  is 
found  what  we  ask  in  vain  on  earth,  the  perfect  nobil- 
ity of  the  children  of  God,  absolute  purity,  total  ab- 
straction from  the  contamination  of  the  world,  that 
freedom,  in  short,  which  material  society  shuts  out  as 
an  impossibility,  and  which  finds  all  its  amplitude  on- 
ly in  the  domain  of  thought.  The  great  master  of 
those  who  take  refuge  in  this  ideal  kingdom  of  God,  is 
Jesus  still.  He  first  proclaimed  the  kingliness  of  tlie 
pirit ; he  first  said,  at  least  by  his  acts  : “ My  king- 
dom is  not  of  this  world.”  The  foundation  of  the  true 
eligion  is  indeed  his  work.  After  him,  there  is  no 
thing  more  but  to  develop  and  fructify. 

‘‘  Christianity”  has  thus  become  almost  synonymou 
with  “ religion.”  All  that  may  be  done  outside  of 
this  great  and  good  Christian  tradition  will  be  sto 


S66 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


rile.  Jesus  founded  religion  on  humanity,  as  Socratei 
founded  philosophy,  as  Aristotle  founded  science. 
There  had  been  philosophy  before  Socrates  and  science 
before  Aristotle.  Since  Socrates  and  Aristotle,  philo- 
ophy  and  science  have  made  immense  progress ; but 
a1.  has  been  built  upon  the  foundation  which  they 
iaid.  And  so,  before  Jesus,  religious  thought  had 
passed  through  many  revolutions  ; since  Jesus  it  has 
made  great  conquests  ; nevertheless  it  has  not  depart 
ed,  it  will  not  depart  from  the  essential  condition 
which  Jesus  created ; he  has  fixed  for  eternity  the  idea 
of  the  pure  worship.  The  religion  of  Jesus,  in  this 
sense,  is  not  limited.  The  Church  has  had  its  epochs 
and  its  phases  ; it  has  shut  itself  up  in  symbols  which 
have  had  or  will  have  their  day : Jesus  founded  the 
absolute  religion,  excluding  nothing,  determining  no- 
thing, save  its  essence.  His  symbols  are  not  fixed 
dogmas,  but  images  susceptible  of  indefinite  interpret- 
ations. We  should  seek  vainly  in  the  gospel  for  a 
theological  proposition.  All  the  professions  of  faith 
are  disguises  of  the  idea  of  Jesus,  much  as  the  scho- 
lasticism of  the  middle  ages,  by  proclaiming  Aristotle 
the  sole  master  of  a perfect  science,  was  false  to  the 
thought  of  Aristotle.  Aristotle,  had  he  witnessed  the 
discussions  of  the  schools,  would  have  repudiated  this 
narrow  doctrine  ; he  would  have  been  of  the  party  of 
progressive  science  against  the  party  of  routine,  whicl 
3fas  shielding  itself  under  his  authority  ; he  woul 
have  applauded  his  contradictors.  And  so,  were  Je 
BUS  to  return  among  us,  he  would  acknowledge  as  his 
disciples,  not  those  who  claim  to  include  him  entirely 
m a few  phrases  of  the  catechism,  but  those  who  labor 
vO  continue  him.  The  eternal  glory,  in  every  order 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


367. 


of  grand  achievements,  is  to  have  laid  the  first  stone, 
It  may  be  that,  in  the  Physics”  and  in  the  Meteor^ 
ology”  of  modern  times  there  is  found  no  word  of  tlia 
treatises  of  Aristotle  which  hear  these  titles  : Aristo 
tie  is  none  the  less  the  founder  of  natural  scienca 
Whatever  may  be  the  transformations  of  dogma,  Je 
BUS  will  remain  in  religion  the  creator  of  its  pure  sen 
timent : the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  will  never  be  sur* 
passed.  No  revolution  will  lead  us  not  to  join  in  reli 
gion  the  grand  intellectual  and  moral  line  at  the  head 
of  which  beams  the  name  of  Jesus.  In  this  sense,  we 
are  Christians,  even  though  we  separate  upon  almost 
all  points  from  the  Christian  tradition  which  has  pre- 
ceded us. 

And  this  great  foundation  was  truly  the  persona] 
work  of  Jesus.  To  become  adored  to  such  a degree, 
he  must  have  been  adorable.  Love  does  not  exist 
without  an  object  worthy  to  enkindle  it,  and  did  we 
know  nothing  of  Jesus  but  the  passion  which  he  in- 
spired in  those  around  him,  we  must  yet  affirm  that  he 
was  great  and  pure.  The  faith,  the  enthusiasm,  the 
constancy  of  the  first  Christian  generation  is  explained 
only  by  supposing  at  the  beginning  of  the  whole 
movement  a man  of  colossal  proportions.  When  w 
look  upon  the  marvellous  creations  of  the  ages  of 
faith,  two  impressions,  equally  fatal  to  good  historical 
criticism,  arise  in  the  mind.  On  the  one  hand,  we  arcs 
led  to  suppose  these  creations  too  impersonal ; we  at 
tribute  to  a collective  action  what  often  has  been  th^ 
work  of  one  powerful  will,  of  one  superior  spirit.  On 
the  other  hand,  we  refuse  to  see  men  like  ourselves  in 
Uie  authors  of  these  extraordinary  movements  whicli 
nature  conceals  in  her  breast.  Our  civilizations,  gov 


868 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


erned  as  they  are  by  a minnte  policy,  can  give  ub  m 
idea  cf  the  power  of  man  in  the  ages  when  the  origin- 
ality of  each  had  a freer  field  for  development.  Snp* 
pose  a solitary  dweller  in  the  quarries  near  our  capi* 
Cals,  going  thence  from  time  to  time  to  the  palaces  oi 
overeigns,  forcing  an  entrance,  and,  in  an  imperious 
tone,  announcing  to  kings  the  approach  of  revolutions 
of  which  he  has  been  the  promoter.  The  idea  alone 
makes  us  smile.  Such,  nevertheless,  was  Elijah.  Eli- 
jah the  Tishbite,  in  our  days,  could  not  pass  the  gate 
of  the  Tuileries.  The  preaching  of  Jesus  and  his  free- 
dom of  action  in  Galilee  are  no  less  entirely  beyond 
the  social  conditions  to  which  we  are  accustomed, 
(Jntrammeled  by  our  polite  conventionalities,  exempt 
from  the  uniform  education  which  refines  us,  but 
which  diminishes  so  greatly  our  individuality,  these 
complete  souls  carry  into  action  a surprising  energy. 
They  appear  to  us  like  the  giants  of  a heroic  age,  who 
must  have  been  unreal.  Entire  mistake  ! These  men 
were  our  brothers  ; they  were  of  our  stature  ; they  felt 
and  thought  as  we  do.  But  the  breath  of  God  was 
free  with  them ; with  us  it  is  enchained  by  the  iron 
bands  of  a society  mean  and  condemned  to  an  irre- 
mediable mediocrity. 

Let  us  then  place  the  person  of  Jesus  on  the  highest 
fiummit  of  human  grandeur.  Let  us  not  permit  our 
elves  to  be  led  astray  by  exaggerated  distrust  in  re- 
gard to  a legend  which  continually  draws  us  into  the 
supernatural  world.  The  life  of  a Francis  d’ Assisi  i| 
also  only  a tissue  of  miracle.  Still  has  anybody  evei 
doubted  the  existence  and  the  character  of  Francis 
d’ Assisi  ? Let  us  say  no  more  that  the  glory  of  the 
foundation  of  Christianity  should  be  given  to  the  masi 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


369 


of  primitive  Ohristians,  and  not  to  him  whom  the  le* 
gend  has  deified.  The  inequality  of  men  is  even  more 
marked  in  the  East  than  among  us.  It  is  not  rare  to 
Bee  rising  there,  in  the  midst  of  an  atmosphere  of  gen- 
eral wickedness,  characters  whose  grandeur  astonislie.i 
js.  Far  from  having  been  created  by  his  disciples, 
Jesus  appears  in  all  things  superior  to  his  disciples. 
They,  St.  Paul  and  St.  John  excepted,  were  men  with- 
out talent  or  genius.  St.  Paul  himself  bears  no  com- 
parison with  Jesus,  and  as  to  St.  John,  I shall  show 
hereafter  that  his  character,  very  high  in  one  sense, 
was  far  from  being  in  all  respects  irreproachable. 
Hence  the  immense  superiority  of  the  Gospels  among 
the  writings  of  the  Hew  Testament.  Hence  the  pain^ 
ful  fall  which  we  experience  in  passing  from  the  histo- 
ry of  Jesus  to  that  of  the  Apostles.  The  evangelists 
themselves,  who  have  bequeathed  to  us  the  image  of 
Jesus,  are  so  far  below  him  of  whom  they  speak,  that 
they  constantly  disfigure  him  because  they  cannot  at- 
tain his  hight.  Their  writings  are  full  of  mistakes  and 
misconceptions.  At  every  line  we  recognise  discourse 
of  a divine  beauty  reported  by  writers  who  do  not 
understand  it,  and  who  substitute  their  own  ideas  for 
those  which  they  but  half  comprehend.  Upon  the 
whole,  the  character  of  Jesus,  far  from  having  been 
embellished  by  his  biographers,  has  been  belittled  by 
them.  Criticism,  to  discover  what  he  really  was, 
Viust  eliminate  a series  of  mistakes,  arising  from  the 
ndifferent  understanding  of  the  disciples.  They  have 
j^ainted  him  as  they  conceived  him,  and  often,  while 
thinking  to  make  him  greater,  have  in  reality  made 
him  less. 

I know  that  our  modern  ideas  are  wounded  mort 


870 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


than  once  in  this  tradition  conceived  by  another  race 
under  anotlier  sky,  in  the  midst  of  otlier  social  needs. 
There  are  virtues  which,  in  some  respects,  are  more 
in  accordance  with  our  taste.  The  noble  and  gentle 
Marcus  Aurelius,  the  humble  and  mild  Spinoza,  not 
believing  in  miracles,  were  exempt  from  some  erro;« 
in  which  Jesus  shared.  The  second,  in  his  profound 
obscurity  had  an  advantage  which  Jesus  did  not  seek. 
By  our  extreme  scrupulousness  in  the  employment  of 
the  means  of  conviction,  by  our  absolute  sincerity  and 
our  disinterested  love  of  the  pure  idea,  we  all,  who  have 
devoted  our  lives  to  science,  have  founded  a new  ideal 
of  morality,  But  the  appreciations  of  universal  histo 
ry  should  not  be  confined  to  considerations  of  person- 
al merit.  Marcus  Aurelius  and  his  noble  masters  have 
had  no  lasting  effect  upon  the  world.  Marcus  Aure- 
lius left  behind  him  delightful  books,  an  execrable  son, 
a transitory  world.  Jesus  remains  to  humanity  an  in 
exhaustible  source  of  moral  regenerations.  Philoso 
phy  is  not  enough  for  the  mass.  It  requires  sanctity. 
An  Apollonius  of  Tyana,  with  his  miraculous  le- 
gend, was  to  have  greater  success  than  a Socrates 
with  his  cold  reason.  ‘‘  Socrates,  it  was  said,  leaves 
men  upon  the  earth,  Apollonius  transports  them  to 
heaven  ; Socrates  is  but  a sage,  Apollonius  is  a 
God.”*  Religion,  even  to  our  days,  has  never  existed 
without  some  portion  of  asceticism,  of  sanctity,  of  the 
marvellous.  Were  it  desired,  like  the  Antonines,  to 
make  a religion  of  philosophy,  it  would  have  been  ne 
cessary  to  transform  the  philosophers  into  saints, 
write  the  ‘^edifying  Life”  cf  Pythagoras  and  of  Plotinus, 

♦ Phllofltratus,  Life  of  Apollonius  y IV,  2;  VII,  11;  VIII,  7;  Eonapius,  JMoef  ^ Ai 
$BpkitUy  p.  4&4,  500  (edit.  Didot). 


LIFE  OF  ^ ,oUS. 


371 


to  attribute  to  tbem  a legend,  virtues  ol*  abstinence  and 
contemplation,  supernatural  powers  without  which 
neither  credence  U()r  authority  was  found  with  the 
age 

Let  us  guard,  therefore,  against  mutilating  history 
lo  satisfy  our  poor  susceptibilities.  Who  of  us,  pig 
mies  that  we  are,  is  able  to  do  what  the  extravagant 
Francis  d’ Assisi,  or  the  hysterical  St.  Theresa  have 
done  ? Though  medicine  have  names  to  express  these 
great  aberrations  of  human  nature  ; though  it  main- 
tain that  genius  be  a disease  of  the  brain ; though  it 
see  in  a certain  delicacy  of  morality  the  commence* 
ment  of  phthisis  ; though  it  class  enthusiasm  and  love 
among  nervous  symptoms,  what  matters  that  ? The 
words  of  sick  and  well  are  altogether  relative.  Who 
would  not  rather  be  sick  like  Pascal  than  in  good 
health  like  the  multitude  ? The  narrow  ideas  which 
are  general  in  our  day  in  regard  to  madness,  mislead 
our  historical  judgment  most  seriously  in  questions  of 
this  kind.  A condition  in  which  a man  says  things 
of  which  he  has  no  conscious  knowledge,  in  which 
thought  is  produced  without  being  called  and  regulat- 
ed by  the  will,  now  exposes  him  to  be  shut  up  as  a 
lunatic.  Formerly,  this  was  called  prophecy  and  in- 
spiration. The  finest  things  in  the  world  are  done  in 
£ state  of  fever;  every  eminent  creation  involves  a 
^destruction  of  equilibrium,  a violent  condition  for  the 
being  who  produces  it. 

Certainly,  we  acknowledge  that  Christianity  is 
work  too  complex  to  have  been  the  creation  of  a sin 
gle  man.  In  one  sense,  all  humanity  worked  togethei 
upon  it.  There  is  no  portion  of  the  world  so  walled  iu 
that  it  does  not  receive  some  breath  from  without 


872 


ORIGINS  UJ?^  CHRISTIANITY. 


The  history  of  the  human  mind  is  full  of  strange  eyn 
chronisms  by  which  far  distant  fragments  of  the  hu 
man  race  attain  at  the  same  time,  without  intercom 
raiinication,  to  ideas  and  imaginations  almost  identical 
In  the  thirteenth  century,  Latins,  Greeks,  Syriai  ^ 
Jews  and  Mussulmen  affect  scholasticism  and  almosv 
he  same  scholasticism,  from  York  to  Samarkand  ; in 
the  fourteenth  century,  the  taste  for  mystical  allegory 
becomes  universal  in  Italy,  in  Persia,  in  India ; in  the 
sixteenth  century,  art  is  developed  in  an  entirely  simi- 
lar manner,  in  Italy,  at  Mount  Athos,  at  the  court  of 
the  Great  Mogul,  yet  there  had  been  no  acquaintance 
between  St.  Thomas,  Barhebrseus,  the  doctors  of  Nar- 
boime,  and  the  motecallemin  of  Bagdad  : Dante  and 
Petrarch  had  seen  no  soufi,  no  pupil  from  the  schools 
of  P6rouse  or  Florence  had  visited  Delhi.  One  would 
Bay  that  great  moral  influences  sweep  over  the  world 
like  epidemics,  without  distinction  of  frontier  or  of  na- 
tion. The  commerce  of  ideas  in  the  human  race  does 
not  work  by  books  or  by  direct  teaching  only.  Jesus 
did  not  even  know  the  name  of  Buddha,  Zoroaster,  or 
Plato ; he  had  read  no  Greek  book,  no  Buddhist  sou- 
tra,  and  yet  there  is  in  him  more  than  one  element 
which,  without  his  knowledge,  came  from  Buddhism, 
from  Parseeism,  or  from  the  wisdom  of  the  Greeks. 
All  this  is  done  through  secret  channels  and  by  tha| 
ipecies  of  sympathy  which  exists  between  various  di 
visions  of  humanity.  The  great  man,  on  the  one  hand 
eceives  all  things  from  his  time ; on  the  other,  li€ 
Piasters  his  time.  To  sliow  that  the  religion  founded 
by  Jesus  was  the  natural  consequence  of  what  had 
preceded,  is  not  to  diminish  its  excellence ; it  is  to 
prove  that  there  was  a reason  for  its  existence,  that  ii 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


373 


was  natural,  that  is  to  say,  conformable  to  the  in- 
stincts and  to  the  needs  of  the  heart  in  a given 
age. 

Is  it  more  just  to  say  that  Jesus  owed  all  to  Juda- 
ism, and  that  his  grandeur  is  none  other  than  that  of 
the  Jewish  people  ? No  person  is  more  disposed  than 
I to  give  a lofty  place  to  this  unique  people,  whose 
peculiar  province  it  seems  to  have  been  to  compass 
the  extremes  of  good  and  evil.  Undoubtedly  Jesus 
emanates  from  Judaism  ; but  he  emanates  from  it  as 
Socrates  emanated  from  the  schools  of  the  Sophists,  as 
Luther  emanated  from  the  Middle  Ages,  like  Lamen- 
nais  from  Catholicism,  like  Uousseau  from  the  eight- 
eenth century.  A man  belongs  to  his  age  and  his  race, 
even  when  he  reacts  against  his  age  and  his  race.  Far 
from  being  the  continuator  of  Judaism,  Jesus  repre- 
sents the  breaking  off  with  the  Jewish  spirit.  Even 
supposing  that  his  thought  in  this  regard  may  leave 
room  for  some  uncertainty,  the  general  direction  of 
Christianity  after  him  permits  none.  The  general 
progress  of  Christianity  has  been  to  separate  more 
and  more  from  Judaism.  Its  perfection  will  be  in  re- 
turning to  Jesus,  but  certainly  not  in  retui-ning  to  Ju- 
daism. The  great  originality  of  the  founder,  there- 
fore, remains  complete ; his  glory  admits  no  rightful 
sharer. 

Undoubtedly  circumstances  counted  much  in  the  ' 
success  of  this  revolution ; but  circumstances  only 
second  that  which  is  just  and  true.  Each  branch  of 
tlie  development  of  humanity  has  its  privileged  epoch, 
in  which  it  attains  perfection  by  a sort  of  spontaneous 
instinct  and  without  effort.  No  labor  of  reflection 
succeeds  in  producing  immediately  those  master-pieces 


874 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


whicli  nature  creates  at  such  moments,  through  tli€ 
inspiration  of  genius.  What  the  beautiful  ages  of 
Greece  were  to  the  arts  and  profane  literature,  the  age 
of  Jesus  was  to  religion.  Jewish  society  presented 
lihe  most  extraordinary  intellectual  and  moral  conditiori 
through  which  the  human  species  has  ever  passed 
It  was  truly  one  of  those  divine  hours  when  the  grand 
is  produced  by  the  collaboration  of  a thousand  con- 
cealed forces,  when  beautiful  souls  find  to  sustain  them 
a tide  of  admiration  and  of  sympathy.  The  world, 
freed  from  the  petty  tyranny  of  little  municipal  repub- 
lics, enjoyed  great  liberty.  Eoman  despotism  did  not 
make  itself  felt  until  much  later,  and,  besides,  it  was 
always  less  burdensome  in  these  distant  provinces 
than  at  the  centre  of  the  empire.  Our  petty  preven- 
tive annoyances  (far  more  murderous  than  death  to  the 
things  of  the  spirit)  did  not  exist.  Jesus,  for  three  years, 
was  able  to  lead  a life  which,  in  our  state  of  society, 
would  have  brought  him  twenty  times  before  the  police 
courts.  Our  laws  concerning  the  illegal  practice  of 
medicine  alone,  would  have  sufficed  to  cut  short  his 
career.  The  incredulous  dynasty  of  the  Herods,  more- 
over concerned  itself  little  with  religious  movements ; 
under  the  Asmoneans,  Jesus  would  probably  have 
been  arrested  at  his  first  step.  An  innovator,  in  such 
a state  of  society,  incurred  no  danger  but  that  of 
death,  and  for  those  who  labor  for  the  future,  death  is 
kind.  Imagine  Jesus  required  to  bear  until  sixty  or 
f'cventy  years  old  the  burden  of  his  divinity,  losing  hi 
celestial  fiame,  wearing  out  little  by  little  under  the 
necessities  of  an  unparallelled  position ! All  thingi 
favor  those  who  are  signally  marked ; they  go  into 
glory  by  the  sweep  of  an  irresistible  and  fatal  tide. 


LIFE  OF  JESUS. 


376 


This  sublime  person,  who  each  day  still  presides 
over  the  destinies  of  the  world,  we  may  call  divine, 
not  in  the  sense  that  Jesus  absorbed  all  divinity,  of 
was  equal  to  it  (to  employ  the  scholastic  expression), 
but  in  this  sense  that  Jesus  is  that  individual  who  has 
caused  his  species  to  make  the  greatest  advance  to 
wards  the  divine.  Humanity  as  a whole  presents  an 
assemblage  of  beings,  low,  selfish,  superior  to  the  ani 
nial  only  in  this  that  their  selfishness  is  more  premed- 
itated. But  in  the  midst  of  this  uniform  vulgarity, 
pillars  rise  towards  heaven  and  attest  a more  noble 
destiny.  Jesus  is  the  highest  of  these  pillars  which 
show  to  man  whence  he  came  and  whither  he  should 
tend.  In  him  is  condensed  all  that  is  good  and  lofty 
in  our  nature.  He  was  not  sinless?;  he  conquered  the 
same  passions  which  we  combat ; no  angel  of  God 
comforted  him,  save  his  good  conscience  ; no  Satan 
tempted  him,  save  that  which  each  bears  in  his  heart. 
And  as  many  of  the  grand  aspects  of  his  character  are 
lost  to  us  by  the  fault  of  his  disciples,  it  is  probable 
also  that  many  of  his  faults  have  been  dissembled.  But 
never  has  any  man  made  the  interests  of  humanity 
predominate  in  his  life  over  the  littleness  of  self-love 
BO  much  as  he.  Devoted  without  reserve  to  his  idea, 
he  subordinated  everything  to  it  to  such  a degree  that 
towards  the  end  of  his  life,  the  universe  no  longer  ex- 
isted for  him.  It  was  by  this  flood  of  heroic  will  tha 
he  conquered  heaven.  There  never  was  a man 
Sakya-Mouni  perhaps  excepted,  who  so  complet^ely 
trampled  under  foot  family,  the  joys  of  the  world,  and 
all  temporal  cares.  He  lived  only  for  his  Father,  and 
for  the  divine  mission  Avhich  he  believed  it  was  his  to 
fulfil. 


576 


ORIGINS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


As  for  ns,  eternal  children,  condemned  to  weakness, 
we  who  labor  without  harvesting,  and  shall  never  se^ 
tlie  fruit  of  what  we  have  sown,  let  ns  bow  befor 
thesedemi-gods.  They  knew  what  we  do  not  know: 
lo  create,  to  affirm,  to  act.  Shall  originality  be  born 
new,  or  shall  the  world  henceforth  be  content  to  fol 
hw  the  paths  opened  by  the  the  bold  creators  of  the 
ancient  ages?  We  know  not.  But  whatever  may 
be  the  surprises  of  the  future,  Jesus  will  never  be  snr 
passed.  His  worship  will  grow  young  without  ceas- 
ing ; his  legend  will  call  forth  tears  without  end  ; his 
sufferings  will  melt  the  noblest  hearts;  all  ages  will 
proclaim  that  among  the  sons  of  men  there  is  Dune 
born  greater  than  Jesus. 


m3  Tifs  OF 


G.  w.  DILLINGHAM,  Successor 


NEW  BOOKS 


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RECENTLY  ISSUED  BY 

O.  W.  Piiblislier, 

Successor  to  G.  W.  Carleton  & Co., 

33  West  23d  Street,  New  York. 


1889. 


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Fairfax — By  John  Esten  Cooke... 

Hilt  to  Hilt.  Do. 

Out  of  the  Foam.  Do. 

Hammer  and  Rapier.  Do. 

Kenneth — By  Sallie  A.  Brock.... 


I 50 
I 50 
I 50 
1 50 
1 50 

I 75 


Heart  Hungry.Mrs.Westmoreland  i 50 
Clifford  Troupe.  Do.  i 50 

Price  of  a Life — R.  F.  Sturgis...  1 50 
Marston  Hall — L.  Ella  Byrd. . ...  i 50 
Conquered— By  a New  Author...  i 50 
Tales  from  the  Popular  Operas,  i 50 

The  Fall  of  Kilman  Kon i 50 

San  Miniato — Mrs.C.V.Hamilton.  i 00 
All  for  Her — A Tale  of  New  York,  i 50 
L’Assommoir — Zola’s  great  novel  100 
Vesta  Vane — By  L.  King,  R.  — i 50 
Walworth’s  Novels — Seven  vols.  i 50 


CHARLES  DICKENS’  WORKS.  I 


AmoDff  the  many  editions  of  the  works  of  th.s  greatest  of 
English  Novelists,  there  has  not  been  until  now  one  that  entirely 
satisfies  the  public  demand. — Without  exception,  they  each  have 
some  strong  distinctive  objection, — either  the  form  and  dimen 
lions  of  the  volumes  are  unhandy — or,  the  type  is  small  and 
indistinct — or,  the  illustrations  are  unsatisfactory — or,  the  bind’ 
ing  is  poor — or,  the  price  is  too  high. 

An  entirely  new  edition  is  now,  however,  published  by  G.  W. 
Carleton  Sc  Co.,  of  New  York,  which,  in  every  respect,  com- 
pletely satisfies  the  popular  demand. — It  is  known  as 


The  size  and  form  is  most  convenient  for  holding, — the  type  is 
entirely  new,  and  of  a clear  and  open  character  that  has  received 
the  approval  of  the  reading  community  in  other  works. 

The  illustrations  are  by  the  original  artists  chosen  by  Charles 
Dickens  himself — and  the  paper,  printing,  and  binding  are  of  an 
attractive  and  substantial  character. 

This  beautiful  new  edition  is  complete  in  15  volumes — at  the 
extremely  reasonable  price  of  $1.50  per  volume,  as  follows  : — 

I. — PICKWICK  PAPERS  AND  CATALOGUE. 

I 2. — OLIVER  TWIST. — UNCOMMERCIAL  TRAVELLER. 

3. —  DAVID  COPPERFIELD. 

4.  — GREAT  EXPECTATIONS. — IlAIY  AND  AMERICA 

5.  — DOMBEY  AND  SON. 

6.  — BARNABY  RUDGE  AND  EDWIN  DROOD. 

7«#-NICHOLAS  NICKLEBY. 

8.  — CURIOSITY  SHOP  AND  MISCELLANEOUS. 

9.  — BLEAK  HOUSE. 

10.  — LITTLE  DORRIT. 

11.  — MARTIN  CHUZZLEWIT. 

12.  — OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

13. — CHRISTMAS  BOOKS. — TALE  OF  TW"0  CITIES. 

^ 14. — SKETCHES  BY  BOZ  AND  HARD  TIMES. 

15.— child's  ENGLAND  AND  MISCELLANEOUS. 

The  first  volume — Pickwick  Papers — contains  an  alphabetical 
catalogue  of  all  Charles  Dickens’  writings,  with  their  exact 
positions  in  the  volumes. 

This  edition  is  sold  by  Booksellers,  ever3rwhere^and  single 
specimen  copies  will  be  forwarded  by  mail,  postage  Jree,  on  re* 
ceipt  of  price.  $1.50,  by 


A NEW 


EDITION. 


“Carleton’s  New  Illustrated  Edition.” 

Complete  in  15  Volumes. 


G.  W.  DILLINGHAM,  Publisher, 


Successor  to  G.  W.  CARLETON  & CO., 


>C/oo(/r  LU  17«  ww » L//lnkC/v//V  OC 

33  W.  23d  St.,  NEW  YORK. 


POPULAR  NEW  BOOKS. 

••NEW  YORK  WEEKLY’*  SERIES. 

Messrs.  Strert  & Smith,  publishers  of  The  New  York  Weekly,  having 
been  requested  bv  th^eir  readers  to  issue  some  of  tlielr  best  and  most 
popular  Stories  in  Book  Form,  have  consented,  and  have  now  S 
arrangements  for  such  publications  with  the  well-known  New  York 

0-.  "W.  IPixblislier. 

The  volumes  already  published  are  as  follows: 

Thrown  on  the  World— A Novel,  by  Bertha  M.  Clay. 
Peerless  Cathleen. — A Novel,  by  Cora  Agnew. 

Faithful  Margraret.— A Novel,  by  Annie  Ashmore. 

Nick  Whiffles.— A Novel,  by  Dr.  J.  H.  Robinson. 

Lady  Leonora.— A Novel,  by  Carrie  Conklin 
Charity  Grinder  Papers.— By  Mary  Kyle  Dallas. 

A Bitter  Atonement.— A Novel,  by  Bertha  M.  Clay. 

A Wife’s  Tragedy— A Novel,  by  May  Agnes  Fleming. 

Curse  of  Bverleigrh.— By  Helen  Corwin  Pierce. 

Love  Works  Wonders.— A Novel,  by  Bertha  M.  Clay. 
Evelyn’s  Polly. A Novel,  by  Bertha  M.  Clay. 

A Changred  Heart— A Novel,  by  May  Agnes  Fleming. 

Lady  Darner’s  Secret.- A Novel,  by  Bertha  M.  Clay. 

A Woman’s  Temptation.— A Novel,  by  Bertha  M.  Clay. 
Brownie’s  Triumph.— A Novel,  by  Mrs.  Georgie  Sheliwn. 

A Wrong'ed  Wife— A Novel,  by  May  Agnes  Fleming. 

Pride  and  Passion— A Novel,  by  May  Agnes  Fleming. 

Repented  at  Leisure —A  Novel,  by  Bertha  M.  Clay. 
Forsaken  Bride.— A Novel,  by  Mrs.  Georgie  Sheldon. 
Between  Two  Loves.- A Novel,  by  Bertha  M.  Clay. 

His  Other  Wife.— A Novel,  by  Rose  Ashleigh. 

Earle  Wayne’s  Nobility.— By  Mrs.  Georgie  Sheldon. 

A StrusTgrle  For  a Ring*.— A Novel,  by  Bertha  M.  Clay. 

Lost— A Pearle.— By  Mrs.  Georgie  Sheldon. 

Maude  Percy’s  Secret— A Novel,  by  May  Agnes  Fleming. 

The  Actress’  Daug*hter  (New)— A Novel,  by  May  Agnes  Fleming. 
Young*  Mrs.  Charnleigh,- A Novel,  by  T,  W.  Hanshew. 

Earl’s  Atonemen*t.— A Novel,  by  Bertha  M.  Clay. 

Put  Asunder.- A Novel  by  Bertha  M.  Clay. 

A Woman’s  Web.— By  Rose  Ashleigh. 

Beyond  Pardon— A Novel,  by  Bertha  M.  Clay. 

Stella  Rosevelt.— A Novel,  by  Mrs.  Georgie  Sheldon. 

Sold  by  Booksellers  everywhere— and  sent  by  mei\,  postage  free, 
on  receipt  of  price,  $1.50  each,  by 

G.  W.  DILLINGHAM.  Publisher. 

(Successor  to  Q.  W.  Carleton  & Co.) 

33  West  Twenty-third  St.,  New  York. 


I A VALUABLE  NEW  BOOkI 

I That  should  be  on  every  Scholar’s  Table. 

CARLETON’S  HAND-BOOK  | ' 

—OF — I 

POPULAR  QUOTATIONS. 

A book  of  Ready  Reference  for  such  phrases,  extracts  ' 
and  Familiar  Quotations  from  popular  authors,  as  are 
oftcnest  met  with  in  general  literature ; together  with 
their  authorship  and  position  in  the  original.  Embracing, 
also,  the  best  list  of  quotations  from  foreign  languages 
ever  published.  Elegantly  printed  and  bound.  Price,  $1.50. 

if  you  want  to  find  any  Familiar  Quotation,  appropriate  to  any 
'particular  Subject  or  Sentiment — this  book  will  give  it  to  you. 

If  you  want  to  know  who  is  the  author,  and  where  any  particular 
Familiar  Quotation  comes  from — this  book  will  tell  you. 

If  you  remember  part  of  a Familiar  Quotation  and  want  to  know 
the  whole  of  it,  and  know  it  exactly — this  book  will  tell  you. 

If  you  want  to  know  the  exact  meaning  and  correctness  of  any  i 
Latin,  French  or  Familiar  Quotation,  in  any  Foreign  langtvage — I 
this  book  will  tell  you. 

( If  you  simply  want  a delightful  book  to  have  lying  upon  your 
^ table,  convenient  to  pick  up  and  entertain  you  with  charming  and 
f Familiar  thoughts  and  Quotations  of  all  authors— this  is  the  book 
i that  will  exactly  suit  you.  • • • There’s  none  more  fascinating 

^ In  the  English  language. 

The  demand  for  this  remarkable  work  is  enormous.  The 
publishers  can  hardly  print  them  fast  enough.  They  are  for  sale  by 
every  booksdler,  and  will  be  sent  by  mail,  postage  free^  on  receipt  of  f 
the  price,  $1*50,  by  1 

G.  W.  DULINGHAM.  P utUsher, 

Successor  to  G.  W.  CARLETON  & CO.,  > 

33  W.  23d  St.,  NEW  YORK.  ' 


1 


Mrs.  Mary  J.  Holmes*  Works. 


TEMPEST  AND  SUNSHINE, 
ENGLISH  ORPHANS. 
HOMESTEAD  ON  HILLSIDE. 
’LENA  RIVERS. 

MEADOW  BROOK. 

DORA  DEANE. 

COUSIN  MAUDE. 

MARIAN  GREY. 

EDITH  LYLE. 

DAISY  THORNTON. 
CHATEAU  D’OR. 

QUEENIE  HETHERTON. 
BESSIE’S  FORTUNE. 


DARKNESS  AND  DAYLIGHT. 
HUGH  WORTHINGTON. 
CAMERON  PRIDE. 

ROSE  MATHER. 

ETHELYN’S  MISTAKE. 
MILLBANK. 

EDNA  BROWNING. 

WEST  LAWN. 

MILDRED. 

FOREST  HOUSE. 

MADELINE. 

CHRISTMAS  STORIES. 
GRETCHEN.  (W^w.) 


OPINIONS  OF  THE  PRESS. 


**  Mrs.  Holmes’  stories  are  universally  read.  Her  admirers  are  numberless. 
She  is  in  many  respects  without  a rival  in  the  world  of  fiction.  Her  characters  are 
always  life-like,  and  she  makes  them  talk  and  act  like  human  beings,  subject 
to  the  same  emotions,  swayed  by  the  same  passions,  and  actuated  by  the  same 
motives  which  are  common  among  men  and  women  of  every-day  existence.  Mrs. 
Holmes  is  very  happy  in  portraying  domestic  life.  Old  and  young  peruse  her 
stories  with  great  delight,  for  she  writes  in  a style  that  all  can  comprehend.” 
— JV^7v  York  Weekly, 

The  North  American  Review,  vol.  8i,  page  557,  says  of  Mrs.  Mary  J. 
Holmes’  novel  “English  Orphans”: — “With  this  novel  of  Mrs.  Holmes’  we 
have  been  charmed,  and  so  have  a pretty  numerous  circle  of  discriminating  readers 
to  whom  we  have  lent  it.  The  characterization  is  exquisite,  especially  so  far  as 
concerns  rural  and  village  life,  of  which  there  are  some  pictures  that  deserve  to 
be  hung  up  in  perpetual  memory  of  types  of  humanity  fast  becoming  extinct. 
The  dialogues  are  generally  brief,  pointed,  and  appropriate.  The  plot  seems 
simple,  so  easily  and  naturally  is  it  developed  and  consummated.  Moreover,  the 
story  thus  gracefully  constructed  and  written,  inculcates  without  obtruding,  not 
only  pure  Christian  morality  in  general,  but,  with  especial  point  and  power,  the 
dependence  of  true  success  on  character,  and  of  true  respectability  on  merit.” 

“Mrs.  Holmes’  stories  are  all  of  a domestic  character,  and  their  interest, 
therefore,  is  not  so  intense  as  if  they  were  more  highly  seasoned  with  sensation- 
alism, but  it  is  of  a healthy  and  abiding  character.  The  interest  in  her  tales 
begins  at  once,  and  is  maintained  to  the  close.  Her  sentiments  are  so  sound,  her 
sympathies  so  warm  and  ready,  and  her  knowledge  of  manners,  character,  and 
the  varied  incidents  of  ordinary  life  is  so  thorough,  that  she  would  find  it  diffi- 
cult to  write  any  other  than  an  excellent  tale  if  she  were  to  try  \X.,''-^Boston 
Bmnner,  . 


^^The  volumes  are  all  handsomely  printed  and  bound  in  cloth,  *ld  every- 
where, and  sent  by  postage  free^  on  receipt  of  price  [$1.50  eachj,  by 


G.  W.  DILLINGHAM,  Publisher, 

Successor  to  G,  W.  CARLETON  & CO., 


33  W.  23d  St.j  NEW  YORK. 


li 


'W' 


Ia^KJL 


